


Tell Me What You Want

by LeeHan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aliens Want to Eat Steve Because of the Serum, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Arguing, Artist Steve Rogers, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America Steve Rogers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Character Development, Childhood Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Making Up, Modern Bucky Barnes, Modern Steve Rogers, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Nipple Play, Non-Canon Chitauri, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sarah Rogers Died of Cancer, Slow Burn, Steve & Bucky Kissed Once As Teens, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Won't Let Himself Have Nice Things, Switching, Top Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, Until Bucky Makes Him, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, brief mentions of cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:33:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 82,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25925953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeHan/pseuds/LeeHan
Summary: Steve never planned on becoming an Avenger, but it's a responsibility he's long since accepted. Would he rather be putting his art degree to use? Sure, but someone's gotta do the dirty work. Fighting aliens, dismantling Hydra, hunting the Winter Soldier— his life can be painful but the safety of the world is worth a bit of pain.The last person Steve expects to challenge that belief is the Winter Soldier himself.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 241
Kudos: 758





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Steve and Bucky meet when they are 9-10 and kiss once when they are 13-14 before losing touch and reuniting as 26-27 year olds.
> 
> Also Bucky speaks a couple languages in this fic and all that dialogue was generated in google translate, so apologies to anyone who speaks Russian, Romanian, Bulgarian, Serbian, or Spanish.
> 
> Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

“…the appearance of these high frequency transmissions to Earth could indicate some form of communication between extraterrestrials and an unknown human party…”

Bruce’s words wafted around Steve like an autumn breeze. He wasn’t really listening but the hum of Bruce’s voice was pleasant all the same. At the moment, his attention was occupied by the parting clouds just outside the window. It had rained earlier and the glimmering raindrops across the glass sparkled as the first beams of sunlight finally broke through the thick band of fluffy clouds.

Discreetly glancing above Clint and Tony’s heads, Steve idly sketched the rolling clouds at the bottom of the memo Bruce had handed out almost an hour ago. His mind drifted as his pen scratched across the surface of the rough paper. The sketch would look nicer on something more sophisticated. If only he had a real ink pen and some smooth vellum.

“…perhaps Captain Rogers could elaborate more on that. He’s much more of an expert on Hydra than I am.”

Steve blinked and looked up. Across the table, Natasha raised an eyebrow at him with a smile twitching at her lips.

“Um,” Steve quickly glanced down at the memo and then up at the presentation on the screen behind Bruce.

Alien transmissions to Earth. Unknown recipient. Someone probably asked if Hydra was involved.

“Hard to say,” Steve answered semi-confidently, “We’ve found a small variety of alien tech in Hydra bases we’ve taken in the past two years but we don’t know if they’ve managed to make anything substantial with it. Our assumption is that they’re trying to create more advanced weapons, not communication devices, but we’ve been wrong before. As far as I’m aware, they don’t have the resources for something like this.”

“Agreed.” At the head of the table, Bruce nodded and adjusted his glasses, “While we continue searching for the recipient, I’d like to advise that all teams dealing with Hydra keep their eyes open for any links.”

Steve nodded and pretended to make a note in the margin of his memo.

“While we work to figure out who is receiving these transmissions, it's worth spending a little more time on who might be sending them…”

As Bruce went back to his presentation, Steve’s eye caught Natasha’s, who was still watching him with a little grin.

 _“Nice save,”_ she mouthed across the table.

Steve felt his cheeks heat up but he smiled back. He had never been a great student and the dozens of monotonous meetings he had to go to every week were painfully reminiscent of high school, even if they were about aliens sometimes. In fact, Steve was fairly certain that the only presentation he had paid complete attention to was the one given by Thor about the magic rainbow bridge he used to travel between planets. Now that had been an entertaining two hours.

Smiling to himself, Steve added a little cartoon rainbow next to his cloud drawing.

By the time he’d filled all the margins up with doodles and half articulated notes, Bruce was wrapping up. As he came around to take his seat, Steve subtly flipped his memo over and smiled at the doctor as he stuck his notes into a folder.

“Thanks for the update, Doc,” Sam said, nodding at Bruce, “Now, for the last item on the agenda.”

Sam usually oversaw the Avengers meetings because he was the only one of them with any experience running a group. Without him, things would have gone off the rails a long time ago and Steve was eternally grateful they were all spared that particular brand of chaos. 

“Agent Hill from SHIELD has some news for us,” Sam said, gesturing to Maria who sat at the far end of the conference table.

Maria was a frequent guest at Avengers meetings. As their official liaison with SHIELD, she kept them up to date with what Fury was up to— to an extent. Fury was secretive and kept the Avengers out of the loop just as often as he kept them in it. It was irritating to say the least but it wasn’t Steve’s job to complain about that.

Sam waved his hand at the screen and Bruce’s charts were replaced with a blurry black and white surveillance photo of a man dressed in dark armor with a rifle in his hands and a mask over the bottom half of his face. Steve stiffened.

“As you all know,” Maria began, “this man— colloquially known as the Winter Soldier— was once Hydra’s deadliest assassin.”

Steve stared at the blurry pixels of the Winter Soldier, his brow furrowing. 

The Soldier came on the scene four years ago. He’d shot Natasha in the side with a heavy duty rifle. Steve had watched her fall as the sniper’s bullet hit her. Despite the Avengers’ and SHIELD’s combined efforts, they’d never managed to corner the man. They only ever seemed to chase rumors and shadows.

“A year ago, he vanished,” Maria continued, “We thought he was dead, however, a new possibility has come to light. We have just finished processing the data retrieved last month by Captain Rogers and his squad from the former Hydra base in Spain. According to their records, the Soldier is very much alive and has been systematically destroying every Hydra base on his radar.”

A wave of murmurs went around the room and Steve’s interest piqued as Maria waved her hand at the screen and a new image appeared.

“This morning, their suspicions were confirmed.”

A new photograph appeared. A man stood on a street corner. He wore a nondescript uniform of street clothes with a hood pulled over his long hair and a backpack strapped across his shoulders. Most of the man’s face was obscured, but there were similarities in the posture and the bridge of his nose. It was hard to tell, but it could be him.

“Where was this taken?” Steve asked as he stared at the grainy photograph.

“Greece.”

“Was contact made?”

“No,” Maria’s frustration was palpable, “he vanished moments later. He must have seen us. He’s as much a ghost as he ever was. We have no idea where he is now.”

“Wait so, he defected from Hydra?” Clint asked curiously.

“We believe so,” Maria replied, “We have no idea how but there’s no other explanation. This man left Hydra, destroyed every facility and agent he’d ever come into contact with, and has vanished once again. In light of this, Captain Rogers, SHIELD is requesting you take on a new mission.”

Steve raised his eyebrows.

“The Soldier clearly has no more love for Hydra. Fury wants you to find him and bring him in. He’ll have inside knowledge of the organization and we can offer him assistance in his apparent mission to destroy Hydra.”

“Maria,” Steve gave himself a split second to process before shaking his head, “he joined Hydra for a reason. Even if we bring him in, we wouldn’t be able to trust anything he says. Besides, if he wanted to take down all of Hydra, logically, he would have tried to contact us for aid when he defected.”

“Agreed.” Natasha’s brow furrowed, “It could be a trap.”

“But think of everything he must know,” Tony interjected curiously, “He was Hydra’s right hand. I wonder what changed?”

“Have we seen definitive evidence that he destroyed those bases?” Sam asked.

“I did a little digging around,” Maria said and the screen behind her began to scroll through dozens of news articles, “there have been an unusually large number of suspicious explosions and ‘gas leaks’ across Europe in the past year. All were ridden off as infrastructure failures but each event happens almost exactly two weeks after the last, in a linear pattern across the continent.”

A map appeared and Steve watched a little dot dart across it from east to west, then loop around and head north before continuing back towards Asia.

“Three days for travel, one week of retcon, two days of prep, one day for execution,” Steve muttered.

“Exactly,” Maria agreed.

It was efficient, precise, and successful. As far as Steve was aware, SHIELD hadn’t even known about most of the bases pinpointed on the map. They must have been well hidden, known by elite members of the organization only.

“What’s he been doing since?” Steve asked.

The map disappeared.

“We have no idea.” Maria replied, “and neither does Hydra. He’s been quiet for almost four months. They’ve been looking for him for the past year and have nothing to show for it. That’s where you come in.”

Maria’s eyes met Steve’s.

“It’s likely that the Soldier would continue his path of destruction if he knew the locations of more bases, so let’s give him some.”

Steve thought for a moment.

The last thing he wanted to do was go traipsing across Eurasia in search of a ghost that had eluded SHIELD for nearly four years. It sounded a bit like SHIELD had run out of fuel and wanted to throw the job on someone else before calling the whole op a bust. But, at the same time, Steve hadn’t been given the super soldier serum just so he could relax at home. Someone had to deal with the Winter Soldier and if he wouldn’t do it, then who would?

“Alright,” he said with a small grimace, “We’ll start with recon and see where he stands first. I don’t want to accidentally unleash a killer Nazi on Europe.”

“Fair,” Maria agreed before sliding a thin file across the conference table, “take whoever you need and get the job done. I’ll let Fury know you’re on board.”

As Sam adjourned the meeting, Steve flipped through the file. Hydra records, satellite photos, a list of the Winter Soldier’s known hits, and a single, mostly blank page of all the personal information SHIELD had on the Soldier.

“Not a whole lot to go on,” Natasha remarked, peering over his shoulder at the file.

“Surprise, surprise,” Sam added as he joined them, “you need me on this one, Cap?”

“Yeah, if you’re available,” Steve replied, “I could use your wings.”

“What about my charming personality?” Sam asked with an exaggerated pout.

“Well, who could resist that,” Steve laughed, knocking his shoulder against Sam’s as they headed for the elevator.

“You want in, Nat?” Steve asked, waving the file at Natasha, “I know you have a score to settle with this guy.”

“Yeah, best I don’t get too involved,” she replied with a scowl, “I might shoot him on sight.”

“Fair,” Sam said, “he was a menace for what? Three years? Four?”

“More than a menace,” Steve agreed as they stepped into the elevator and he hit the buttons for each of their personal apartments in the Tower.

“Thirty-six high level assassinations across the globe.” Natasha added.

“Thirty-six that we know of,” Steve corrected.

“Jesus, and then he just flipped?”

“Who knows what happens in the mind of a guy like that,” Natasha muttered, staring out of the glass elevator as they descended.

Steve eyed her. She’d been part of the Red Room a long time ago. She knew the methods some agencies used to manipulate their subjects.

“It seems like he’s taking revenge,” Steve suggested softly.

Natasha’s expression turned hard.

“If they treated him badly he should have defected before murdering dozens, if not hundreds of, people. He’s been one of the highest ranking members of Hydra for years, he would’ve had countless opportunities to leave if he really wanted to.”

Steve nodded silently. 

It was impossible to know these days. Organizations like Hydra and the Red Room liked to take people young and raise them to believe that their way was the right way. Telling victims from agents was sometimes an impossible task, which was why the recon on this one was going to be Steve’s top priority. He flipped through the file again.

“Pack your bags Sam,” he said as the elevator came to a stop on his floor, “Looks like we’re heading to Europe.”

He couldn’t quite bring himself to sound excited at the prospect and Sam slapped him on the shoulder sympathetically.

“Let’s catch this guy quick, then get our asses back home.”

Steve nodded and mustered up a smile and Sam gave him a lazy salute. Before Steve could say bye to Natasha, she stepped forward and joined Steve in the foyer of his apartment. Her face sank into a deep scowl as the elevator doors closed and she marched across the room, past the dark sofa and the gaudily modern coffee table Tony had picked out, to Steve’s kitchen and stuck her head in the fridge.

“Looking for something?” Steve asked curiously as he set the file down on the kitchen island and watched her poke around.

“Oh, just the last three years of my life.”

Natasha pulled a jar of salsa out of the fridge and turned back around.

“Chips?” She asked.

Steve pointed at the pale blue cabinet above her. She grabbed some corn chips and ripped the bag open with her teeth before joining Steve at the kitchen island and digging in.

“The Winter Soldier is a fucking pain in my ass,” she announced, unprompted, “Russia, Belarus, Brazil. Always getting in my way. Always one step ahead.”

Steve blinked in surprise.

“I thought Iran was the only time you’d encountered him? When we were trying to get that engineer.”

“He shot me because he knew better than to get close,” Natasha told him with a scowl, “My contacts back at the Red Room call him the Asset.”

Natasha was silent for a moment. She dunked another chip into the salsa and crunched on it loudly.

“I hunted him for years,” she muttered.

“For Fury?”

“No, for me.”

She sighed deeply and ran her fingers through her straight red hair.

“Look, maybe he flipped, maybe it's a trap, maybe he’s just biding his time before trying to take all of Hydra down, I don’t know. Just—“ she bit her lip, “—just don’t waste your time chasing shadows. The Winter Soldier is a ghost; he’ll elude you to the ends of the earth. He’ll tell you what you want to hear and then stab you in the back. He’s a liar. ”

“You were that close with him?” Steve asked, surprised, “You knew him?”

“I thought… I thought he was different—“ Natasha cut herself off. 

She grabbed another chip and shoved it into her mouth.

“Nat.” Steve eyed her suspiciously, “What exactly was your relationship with him?”

Natasha choked. Steve quickly patted her back as she coughed.

“It’s not—“ she wheezed, “it’s not like that!”

Her scowl vanished as a smile burst across her face. She was laughing, Steve realized with a relieved grin.

“Jesus, Steve, do you think I have a death wish?” She laughed, still clearing her throat a little.

“I don’t know!” Steve replied, laughing too, “You made it sound so weird.”

Natasha shook her head.

“I’ll admit I’ve done some crazy stupid things in my life, but nothing _that_ stupid.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Clint.”

The sharp point of Natasha’s boot jabbed Steve in the shin but she didn’t bother defending her boyfriend. Steve was bound to have a nice bruise later but Natasha was smiling so he counted it as a win.

“What I was _trying_ to say,” Natasha continued, rolling her eyes, “was that he fooled me once before. I chased him to a facility in Brazil after he was spotted fleeing the assassination of that SHIELD official three years ago. I was expecting a brutal fight from someone with his reputation but when I got there he looked like he’d been crying.”

Steve blinked in surprise.

“Yeah, I hardly knew what to do,” Natasha admitted, “I came out and announced myself but he didn’t attack. He was whispering something, I had to get pretty close to hear him. He was saying the same thing over and over.”

Natasha’s grimace returned.

“‘Don’t send me back,’ he said”

Steve's heart sank. 

“That sounds like trauma to me.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Natasha replied, “but I should have known better than to fall for it.”

“He was faking?”

“I led him out,” Natasha explained, “I offered to get him somewhere safe and hide him. He accepted, but it wasn’t long before Hydra caught up with us. I fought hard to protect him but when the Hydra Commander called him, he went without hesitation and I realized I was surrounded. If Clint and Tony hadn’t shown up I wouldn’t have survived. I spent the next year looking for him and when I finally found him again, he shot me.”

She stirred the salsa morosely.

“If he expects me to believe he’s just switched sides now, he’s going to have to be more convincing because he’s pulled this act before and I’m not falling for it again.”

Steve placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You did the right thing,” he told her gently, “it’s better to accidentally help a liar than to abandon someone who truly needs help. Empathy isn’t a fault.”

Natasha sighed.

“Makes me feel like an idiot though.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve smiled, “there’s a first time for everything.”

The corner of Natasha’s mouth twitched up and she huffed before reaching back into the bag of chips.

“Show me what you were drawing earlier,” she asked, sealing off her emotions and returning to her favorite pastime: teasing Steve.

“I wasn’t—“

“You were.”

“I was paying very close attention to Bruce’s lovely presentation—“

“The utter panic on your face when he asked you a very simple question—“

“Which I answered perfectly, by the way,” Steve declared adamantly.

“You got lucky.”

“I resent that.”

“What were you drawing?”

“Clouds. The potted plant by the door to Pepper’s office. Thor on a rainbow.”

“Hm.” Natasha snapped another chip between her teeth.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Steve pouted. 

“Come on,” Natasha smacked Steve’s arm, “finish watching _Stranger Things_ with me before you go.”

“Alright, give me a second.”

While Natasha relocated herself and the chips to the couch, Steve took the Winter Soldier’s file to the small office adjacent to his bedroom.

Natasha was a good friend with a checkered past and Steve didn’t want to make her talk about anything she didn’t want to. He didn’t know the full extent of what the Red Room or Hydra did to their initiates and he wasn’t excited to find out. If Natasha thought the Winter Soldier had tricked her then he believed it. Natasha was the best agent he knew so he’d have to be careful if the Soldier had managed to get the better of her.

Steve flipped open the file one more time and stared down at the two grainy photographs of the man whose face seemed perpetually obscured. He grabbed a pen and added a note to the margins.

_The Asset._

It was a strange name. Impersonal but effective.

The man in the left photograph fit the name. Dressed all in black leather with dark hair hanging loosely around his face, a rifle strapped to his back and two more at either thigh, the Winter Soldier looked a pillar of immovable strength. 

The man on the right was different. He wore an olive jacket and a maroon henley beneath it. His jeans were worn and faded, his baseball hat was fraying, and the straps of his backpack were clipped together across his chest. Unlike the Soldier, this man looked prepared to run at any moment.

Either this man was an unwilling pawn or manipulative Hydra assassin. Neither prospect brought Steve any joy but as much as he hated being called off on assignment like this, he could at least appreciate the chance he had to take some vengeance on the people who’d put so much darkness into the world, either by saving this man or ending him.

* * *

_“Hey, Steve. How’s Winter Purgatory?”_

Steve scowled down at Natasha’s grinning face on his small phone screen.

_“What’s it been? Six months? Seven?”_

“Nine,” Steve admitted glumly.

He was sitting in a shitty motel room in Nowhere, Bulgaria after chasing yet another shadow across the continent only to wind up more lost than he began.

_“I warned you, man.”_

“I know,” Steve groaned and flopped back onto the stiff mattress, “I hate this guy. I can’t believe you did this for three years.”

 _“Well, only on the weekends,_ ” Natasha replied, sinking back into her seat.

From what little Steve could see of her surroundings, she was in his apartment, on his couch, eating his ice cream.

“Stop eating my ice cream.”

 _“I bought this,”_ she replied flatly, _“I live here now.”_

Steve sighed deeply.

“Whatever. It’s not like I’ll be back any time soon.”

Natasha’s face turned slightly more sympathetic.

_“Is Sam still occupied?”_

“Yeah, they needed him for the job over in Iceland. He says he’ll be gone another two months.”

 _“You want me to send someone else out there?”_ Natasha asked, _“I think Sharon or Maria might be available.”_

“It’s alright,” Steve shook his head, “it’s not like more hands would be helpful. Even when it’s just me there isn’t enough to occupy my time.”

_“Did you finish that sudoku book I sent you?”_

“Yes.”

_“Hm… do you like crosswords?”_

“How are things at home?” Steve asked, wanting to talk about literally anything else.

 _“Well, team Earth is fine.”_ Natasha told him, _“Clint and I just got back from Dubai. It was a short mission just to make sure Hydra hadn’t gotten their roots back in there after we cleared them out last year. As for the Alien Squad, Bruce and Tony are still chasing those extraterrestrial communications being sent to Earth from before you left. Seems like the recipients are just as elusive as your Soldier. Tony wants to ask Thor about it but he hasn’t been back to Earth in two years.”_

“Hm,” Steve nodded, “So same old, same old?”

 _“Pretty much.”_ Natasha’s expression shifted slightly, _“Well, there is one thing I need to update you on.”_

“What’s up?”

_“Do you remember STRIKE? I know they were destroyed before you were an active agent.”_

“I remember,” Steve’s brow furrowed, “When I joined the Avengers it was all anyone at SHIELD ever talked about. They were SHIELD’s sister organization, right?”

 _“They were SHIELD’s eyes and ears in Europe before their European branch was officially established,”_ Natasha confirmed, _“Hydra obliterated them back in 2015.”_

“Right,” Steve nodded.

_“Or, so we thought.”_

“What?” Steve sat up, “They’re back? They survived?”

Natasha grimaced.

 _“Not in the way you’re thinking,”_ she said, _“Their head, Alexander Pierce, who was presumed dead after STRIKE’s fall, was spotted two days ago leaving a secret Hydra compound in Russia.”_

“He’s… one of them?” Steve asked incredulously.

 _“Fury did some digging,”_ she continued, _“He thinks Pierce has been a double agent for Hydra for decades. It’s possible that once he got to the top of STRIKE’s hierarchy he turned the whole organization.”_

“STRIKE wasn’t destroyed,” Steve extrapolated, his heart sinking, “they merged with Hydra.”

 _“It’s just a theory,”_ Natasha added, _“but it certainly explains why STRIKE appeared so thoroughly annihilated. After all those loyal to STRIKE’s original ideals were killed, the remaining agents would have joined Hydra, giving the appearance that there were no survivors.”_

“How could no one have noticed?” Steve asked, shaking his head, “How could SHIELD not have noticed?”

 _“Hydra is insidious,”_ Natasha sighed, _“and they’ve been at this since before WWII.”_

Steve sank back down onto the stiff mattress and stared up at the ceiling.

“Isn’t there any good news you can tell me?”

Silence.

_“I trained Clint’s dog to bring me clementines whenever I want them.”_

“I thought you already trained Clint to do that.”

_“Yeah, but sometimes he’s not home.”_

“Hm.”

Steve watched the ceiling fan above him spin in lazy circles. Everything sucked.

 _“Well this has been a depressing conversation,”_ Natasha said with faux positivity, _“try not to worry about STRIKE, you have your own mission and Clint and I are on it. Plus, Sam will be back with you soon.”_

“Yeah, I start to go a little stir crazy without him,” Steve admitted.

_“Don’t we all?”_

“Well, I’ve got a whole lotta nothing to get back to,” Steve announced glumly, “and it looks like you have half a pint of Chunky Monkey left to eat.”

 _“An arduous task but I think I’ll manage.”_ Natasha smiled, _“Don’t get too caught up in your own head, Steve. Take a walk or something. And don’t be ashamed if you think you need to call it quits. Sometimes you just have to admit that your time is better spent elsewhere.”_

Steve nodded.

“Thanks, Nat. Miss you.”

 _“Oh, shut up. Just get back here soon, okay?”_ She scoffed, but Steve knew she wasn’t sitting on his couch just because it was comfortable.

“I will.”

_“Bye, Steve.”_

“Bye.”

The screen went dark.

Steve stared back up at the ceiling fan. Each day it seemed as though Hydra’s stain on the world was growing. Every new report told Steve that they’d just gained a new follower or destroyed someone good. Steve had spent the last five years trying to make right some of their wrongs but sometimes it felt futile as he chased cold leads and fleeting shadows.

Then again, someone had to do it. If he threw in the towel, who would take his place doing the monotonous, dirty, grueling work of hunting down all of Hydras hidden branches? By fate, luck, or misfortune, Steve was the one who had drawn this particular straw and he intended to see it through, no matter the cost. Even if he hated it sometimes. Like now. Because everything sucked.

Natasha was right, he should get out for a bit. He hadn’t left his stuffy motel room in nearly four days. He spent all his time staring at the same files he’d been studying for the past nine months, watching grainy surveillance footage that revealed nothing, and covering a map in a thousand tiny X’s.

He stood, ignoring the groan of the stiff mattress springs as he shoved his feet into some shoes that might have been Sam’s— he couldn’t tell anymore— and throwing on a jacket.

It was chilly outside, but not unbearably cold as February in Bulgaria ticked slowly by. Steve walked the mostly empty roads, past a gas station, until he could see the Danube River. There was a city nearby and a bridge over to Romania but Steve didn’t really want to run into any locals right now. He aimlessly walked along the curb of the long stretch of highway, hoping the fresh air or cool breeze would work some sort of magic on the tension in his shoulders and the constant ache in his brain.

Steve didn’t want to think about Hydra, STRIKE, the Winter Soldier, or the nine months he’d spent failing to even catch a glimpse of the man. He wanted to go home and eat about six gallons of Mrs. Wilson’s chicken soup.

God, what he wouldn’t do for some of that lady’s soup right about now.

Blissfully lost in memories of Christmas the year before last when the Wilson’s had invited him over for dinner and he’d eaten his weight in Mrs. Wilson’s cooking, Steve almost missed the sound of the motorcycle coming up behind him.

He turned and saw a sleek black machine racing down the long road. Its rider was dressed in a dark blue coat and a black helmet. Steve waited for it to speed past him but quickly realized the biker wasn’t gunning it. They were slowing down.

Steve slipped a hand under the hem of his coat and gently gripped the gun fastened to his lower back. He turned to face the rider and to hide his weapon. 

Romanian license plates, he noted.

Bright blue eyes and broad physique greeted him as the bike came to a halt and the man flipped his visor up.

 _“Имате ли нужда от возене в града, приятелю?”_ (Do you need a ride into town, friend?) the man asked in a low mellifluous voice.

Steve had been in Bulgaria long enough to know when their language was being spoken to him. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had much opportunity to learn it. He stared through the little window of the man’s helmet as he tried to find the words to reply.

Sensing Steve’s hesitation, the man tried again.

 _“Stii sa vorbesti romaneste?”_ (Do you speak Romanian?)

Steve recognized the change in language, Romanian maybe? Either way, he still didn’t know what the man was saying.

 _“Српски? Наставит ћу да нагађам.”_ (Serbian? I can keep guessing.)

 _“Вы просто хвастаетесь сейчас._ ” (You’re just showing off now.) Steve replied in Russian.

He didn’t know if the man spoke Russian but if he said anything in English he might as well just tattoo the Avengers logo on his forehead.

 _“Какой смысл изучать все это, если вы не время от времени хвастаетесь?”_ (What’s the point of learning it all if you don’t show off occasionally?) Steve still couldn’t see much of the man’s face but he could hear the smile in his voice, _“Я спросил, нужно ли тебе ехать в город. Я иду туда.”_ (I asked if you needed a ride into town. I’m heading that way.)

 _“О нет, спасибо. Я просто иду ради прогулки.”_ (Oh, no thank you. I’m just walking for the sake of walking.)

The man shrugged.

 _“Хорошо, вы можете поторопиться. Скоро будет дождь.”_ (Alright, you might want to hurry. It’ll rain soon.)

 _“Спасибо за чаевые.”_ (Thanks for the tip.)

The man gave Steve a nod, then he turned back to face the road.

Steve froze. 

He could only see the man's eyes but as he turned the shape of his nose came into view. It was a familiar, ghostly, silhouette, obscured by half a mask. The man flicked down his visor, revved the bike, and took off.

As the bike picked up speed, Steve memorized the plate number.

As quickly as he had appeared, the man was gone. Steve stared after him, every nerve on edge.

Lots of people had high nose bridges and sharp brows, Steve told himself, shaking his head as the sound of the motorcycle faded in the distance.

He was just desperately grasping at straws now. Flimsy, nonexistent straws.

A raindrop hit Steve across the temple. Then another hit the tip of his nose. Feeling off kilter, Steve turned around and began heading back the way he came.

As he walked the image of the man ingrained itself into his psyche. Blue eyes blinked at him. Dark eyebrows raised and furrowed as he talked. His eyes squinted as he smiled behind his helmet.

By the time Steve got back to the motel he was soaked to the bone. He dripped across the faded orange carpet and quickly wiped his wet hands off on the thin bed sheets. He pushed aside a stack of useless files and flipped to a blank page in his notepad. He grabbed a pencil and closed his eyes as he tried to visualize the man’s face.

He sketched a dark brow, deep set eyes, and the high bridge of a nose.

Raindrops fell from his hair, smearing his lines but the drawing was still visible. 

Steve looked down at his sketch, then compared it to the few photographs of the Winter Soldier he had in his possession.

It was similar, Steve had to admit, but it was impossible to know whether or not he was just slowly going crazy. He could just be seeing ghosts where there were none.

He wiped the rain from his brow. It wouldn’t hurt to look the guy up, he reasoned. Otherwise he’d just keep thinking about him until the mission was called off. He would just confirm that the man really was just some regular dude and then he’d go back to staring at ceilings and wandering aimlessly across Europe.

He pulled his laptop back towards him and opened the SHIELD database, quickly typing in the man’s license plate number. The loading image spun as the program delved through Romania’s motorcycle registrations and a moment later, it pulled a file.

_George Bratu_

_Date of Birth: N/A_

_Country of Birth: N/A_

_Current Residence: N/A_

_ID Number: N/A_

_Employer: N/A_

_Next of Kin: N/A_

Steve had never seen SHIELD pull up a file so bare before. There was always something more— a social media page, a legal address, a photo, a place of business— this was unusual. 

This was the result of someone hiding something.

It was more of a lead than Steve had found in nine months. What it was leading to was unclear but there was _something_ at the end of this path and Steve wanted to chase it if only to prove that he wasn’t totally useless.

* * *

Four weeks later, Steve sat at a small café, staring at the building across the street and four doors down. It had taken a good amount of digging to track down George Bratu’s address, though the odds of “George Bratu” being this man’s real name were becoming slim. The guy was a ghost, to the extent that, if Steve hadn’t seen the man with his own eyes, he might assume his existence was a fabrication.

Steve sipped his coffee and pretended to read the newspaper. It was all in Romanian but he’d started taking some time each evening to learn the basics of the language. He was far from fluent but the serum hadn’t just made his biceps bigger. From the day’s headlines, he gathered that a famous writer had passed away, some politician had been accused of embezzling, and the latest blockbuster had done surprisingly well on its opening weekend.

Steve flipped the page.

He stared for a while at the lipstick ad in front of him when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the door to Bratu’s apartment building open. Steve discreetly looked up.

It was him.

His face was already covered by his motorcycle helmet but he had the same blue coat and broad physique. He disappeared into the alleyway next to the building. 

Steve put down his newspaper.

A moment later, the man reappeared on the back of his bike. He checked the traffic and headed east down the busy road before vanishing around a corner. 

Steve waited ten minutes before dropping some cash on the table and pulling up his collar as he crossed to Bratu’s apartment building. 

Through the glass windows on the front door, he could see the empty foyer and when he tested the door, it was unlocked. He stepped in and scanned the line of mailboxes in the wall for the one marked, “Bratu.” Apartment number 6. Third floor. 

Steve headed for the stairs. The building was old but not ancient. There was a faint lingering of dust in the air and the corners of the wallpaper had faded and were beginning to peel. The wood stairs creaked as Steve quickly climbed to the third landing.

Apartment 6 had a shabby wood door. It was slightly askew in its frame, leaving a small crack at both the top and the bottom. There was one lock in the handle, a deadbolt, and, if Steve had to guess, a chain lock on the inside. It was nothing he couldn’t handle, but if Steve’s hunch was right, there would be a bit more to it than that.

With a quick glance towards apartment 5, just to make sure no one was watching him, Steve scanned for cameras and found none. He dropped to the ground, laying flat on his stomach and peered through the crack under the door.

Steve’s adrenaline kicked into gear. The door was askew because someone had shoved a motion sensor under the hinge. Damning evidence of either a highly paranoid Romanian or someone much more sinister.

Feeling more alive than he had in months, Steve pulled out a microchip from his belt and carefully maneuvered it under the door frame. He placed it as close as he could to the device and then turned it on. There was no visible change but if all had gone well, the sensor was temporarily deactivated. 

Steve stood silently and, with another glance towards the stairs, carefully began picking the lock. It was a bit more complex than the average front door but Steve worked his way through each lock quickly and efficiently.

After a moment, it clicked open. 

Steve pushed it inwards, staying on the landing for a moment, just in case. Beyond the door was a hallway, brightly lit by the windows on the far side of the apartment. The walls were plain and the wood floor was clean. A pair of muddy boots sat next to the door but other than that, the hallway seemed empty. But again, Steve wasn’t about to take any chances. He examined the walls of the hallway. There were slight protrusions under the wallpaper every few feet.

More motion sensors along the ground and at waist height for the length of the hallway. Too many to disable with his microchips.

Steve smiled. That was more like it.

He stepped forward and placed either hand on the sides of the door frame and hoisted himself up. He climbed inside, pressing his feet against either wall to keep himself off the ground and he carefully reached down to close the door behind him. Keeping his body suspended between the walls of the hallway, Steve slowly moved forward. There were a few sensors along the ceiling as well, he realized, ducking his head to avoid them too. He inched down the hallway, shuffling his feet across the walls until they gave way to a wide living room.

Peering around the corner, there was a small kitchen on the right, a table with one chair, and a small sofa. Steve hoisted himself to the side and dropped down onto the kitchen countertop, crouching to avoid hitting his head on the cabinets. On the wall next to him, Steve spotted a control panel. Smiling, he attached another microchip to it. 

A moment later, the sensors across the whole apartment were deactivated. 

“Rrrrreeowwww?”

Steve smacked his head against the cabinets. Tumbling back, he pulled his gun and aimed at the sound.

A white cat stared up at him.

“Oh, hello,” Steve whispered with wide eyes, “I almost shot you.”

The cat didn’t even blink.

“Sorry,” he said.

Steve rubbed the bump on his head and hopped off the counter.

The cat’s back arched and it hissed loudly as he approached.

“Whoa, buddy.” Steve took a step back, “I’ll be out of your hair in just a second, promise.”

The cat lifted its paw and Steve saw thin claws poking through its fur. A moment later, a line of deep scratches marred the leather of his shoe.

“Hey, man, these are Sam’s.”

Guard dogs, he’d long since gotten the hang of but guard cats… that was new.

Steve gently pushed the cat away with the toe of his boot. 

“Chill.”

The cat hissed again.

Keeping an eye on the angry feline, Steve turned back to the items in the apartment. The cabinets were well stocked with spices and dry foods while the fridge was equally packed with produce. There were six different kinds of cookies, three pints of ice cream, and two large jars of Nutella— Bratu clearly had a sweet tooth. There was also an entire row of shelves dedicated to some very high end cat food. Steve looked down at the cat again.

“Well, someone’s spoiled.”

The cat eyed him warily, claws and teeth still at the ready.

Steve left the kitchen and examined the small living room, the cat followed from a distance, giving him a wide berth. There was a carpet atop the creaky wood floor and a blue sofa that looked scavenged. It bore a horrible flowery print and was stained in a few places but it seemed comfortable. On a small side table there was a lamp, a half eaten Twix, a blank notepad, and a small stack of sci-fi novels. After scanning the room, Steve followed the adjacent hallway to the bedroom. There was a twin sized bed along the wall with a quilt that looked handmade thrown across it. Atop the dresser were a few hair products, a line of small colorful rocks, and an origami crane. On the nightstand was a copy of _the Left Hand of Darkness_ by Ursula K. Le Guin and in the small drawer there was a heavy loaded gun.

Steve stared down at the weapon and possibilities churned in his head. 

There were a lot of elite agents in the world and Steve doubted any of them slept without some protection nearby.

He sighed and picked up the gun.

Without any solid evidence there was only one thing left to do.

He went back to the living room and placed the gun on the small dining table table. He tore a page from the notepad on the side table and scribbled a short note. 

_56º53’10.2”N 8º18’10.8”E_

That should be enough, he decided. He placed the note next to the gun and looked over the apartment once again. He’d learned a few things about the man who lived there. He had a sweet tooth, he liked science fiction, he was paranoid about break-ins even though there was nothing inside the apartment that seemed worth protecting, and his cat was either very protective or just kind of a dick.

None of it really pointed to Bratu being the Winter Soldier, but if Steve went to those coordinates in two weeks' time and found the smoldering remains of a previously functional Hydra facility then he’d have his answer.

There was nothing left to do but wait.

* * *

Steve leaned against the side of Bratu’s motorcycle. In front of him stood Denmark’s largest Hydra facility, or at least what was left of it.

The Winter Soldier had appeared right on schedule. From the day Steve had left the coordinates of this facility on Bratu’s table it had taken precisely three days for him to appear in Denmark. After that was one week of retcon, two days of prep, and one day for execution. Exactly as predicted.

As Steve watched the flames rise from the windows, he remembered the low voice that had kindly offered him a ride in four different languages. He could have just driven past Steve or given up when he realized Steve didn’t speak Bulgarian. Instead, he tried over and over to find Steve’s language and then warned him to stay out of the rain. Those kinds of actions didn’t square with the cold killer everyone else described. Maybe that was why he hadn’t told SHIELD that he’d found the Soldier yet. He’d told Sam, just for safety, and he was on his way but Steve didn’t want a fight here. He wasn’t sure there needed to be one.

Another explosion rang in Steve’s ears as the far corner of the facility crumbled. Even from a hundred feet away, Steve could smell the smoke and gunpowder that would linger in the air for the next few days.

The Winter Soldier was almost done.

Steve readied himself. He was wearing light armor under his jacket and had a small gun strapped to his ankle but nothing else. They were on the same side, Steve reminded himself. It was them versus Hydra, not each other. Steve hoped the Soldier would see it that way too.

He tried to look as non-aggressive as possible as a silhouette appeared against the flaming ruins of the compound.

If the Soldier was surprised by Steve’s presence, he didn’t show it. He approached, rifle slung over his back and two handguns at either side, in a makeshift uniform of dark gear. His hair hung in dark curtains around his face and his mouth and nose were covered with dark fabric wrapped around his head. His brow was furrowed and streaked with soot. His intent eyes pierced Steve’s as he stalked closer, coming to a halt twenty feet away.

“Efficient, as always.” Steve remarked, nodding towards the crumbling building. 

The Soldier didn’t reply.

“I’m Captain Rogers,” he said, “I assume your real name isn’t George Bratu.”

“Who do you work for?” the Soldier asked tersely.

His voice was rough and low, muffled by the fabric, and completely different from the light, kind tone he’d used to offer Steve a ride a month ago.

“The Avengers,” Steve replied, “but I’m here on behalf of SHIELD.”

“Great. Get the fuck away from me.”

The Soldier jerked his head to the side and made for his bike. Steve could either be steamrolled over or move out of the way. He moved.

“SHIELD has resources that could help you destroy Hydra, as you seem eager to do,” Steve said quickly as the Soldier strapped his rifle to the bike, “we could help you—“

The Soldier snorted.

“Yeah, just like you guys helped STRIKE during the massacre? No, thank you.”

“I… what?” Steve gritted his teeth, “You were part of that?”

The Soldier looked at him then. His blue eyes shone with fury against the soot smeared across his skin.

“Why weren’t you?”

Steve shook his head, pushing aside his anger at the thought of the Soldier assisting in the conversion of STRIKE. This wasn’t the conversation they were supposed to be having.

“Tell us what you know about Hydra,” he said sharply, “with your information and our resources we can take them down.”

The Soldier snorted.

“Something funny?” Steve snapped, his patience running thin.

“Yeah,” the Soldier straddled his bike, “the fact that you think SHIELD and Hydra are two different things. It’s been a while since I’ve met someone so naive.”

Steve’s temper flared.

“SHIELD is not Hydra!” He slapped a hand down on the crossbar of the Soldier’s bike, holding it still, “I’ve been working to destroy Hydra for the past five years. Do you want me to succeed or not?”

“You won’t,” The Soldier retorted, “With or without my help, the result will be the same.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Steve asked incredulously, gesturing towards the flaming wreckage of the Hydra compound behind them.

The Soldier’s scowl deepened. 

“You’re starting to get on my nerves, _Rogers.”_

“You’re already on mine, _Soldier.”_

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“Let go of my bike.”

“Tell me about Hydra.”

“Get out of my way.”

“Did you work for Alexander Pierce?”

Steve did not see the punch coming. He stumbled back and felt blood drip down his cheek as the Soldier’s gloved left hand pulled back for another hit. Either this guy was a lefty or his right fist could probably crack a man’s skull open because Steve felt like he’d been hit in the face with a solid metal brick.

He managed to dodge the second punch as the Soldier leaped off his bike and pulled a knife from his boot. Head still reeling a bit, Steve dodged and skidded across the dirt as he landed a punch to the Soldier’s exposed side. The Soldier’s knife glinted in the firelight as it spun in his hand and slashed across his armor. Steve got the Soldier in the jaw with another punch and then knocked him to the ground with a kick to the knee. In a flash, the Soldier was back up, twisting out of Steve’s reach, darting in and out of range with each hit. Steve grabbed the Soldier’s left wrist and felt something unyielding beneath the fabric. It didn’t snap like bone, instead it shifted inhumanly under his fingers.

Steve let go, suddenly less concerned with who he was fighting than with _what_ he was fighting.

The Soldier was fast and agile. His left side was impossibly strong while his right seemed more comfortable with a blade. He almost seemed to vanish in the dark shadows and then burst forth with no warning. 

But Steve wasn’t an Avenger just because he looked good in a uniform. He pulled the gun from his ankle holster. He flipped it in his hand and pistol whipped the Soldier across the temple. He felt the slice of metal across his thigh but he ignored it. He shot the Soldier in the foot and tripped him to the ground.

The Soldier got him across the face with his knife and then punched him in the solar plexus, sending the air from Steve’s lungs. While he gasped, the Soldier wriggled out of his grip and kneed him in the face. 

Remembering his plan, Steve decided to switch tactics. He didn’t have to kill the Soldier right here right now. Sam was on his way. He just had to subdue him until back up arrived. Steve grabbed the Soldier by the ankle and kicked upwards, twisting his leg across the Soldier’s torso and dragging him back to the ground where he flipped them over and got the Soldier in a sleeper hold.

The Soldier blindly stabbed him in the side, two, three times. Steve tried to kick the knife away but it just flipped into the Soldier’s other hand and he began making symmetrical wounds on Steve’s other side. Steve ignored the pain, focusing on the arm he had wrapped around the Soldier’s throat. The Soldier’s attacks were slowing. Steve kept squeezing, waiting for the Soldier to lose consciousness. 

The next stab got him between the ribs. Steve was well enough acquainted with injuries to know that his lung had just been punctured.

The Soldier went limp in his arms. Steve waited a moment, then let him go. The Soldier’s body slid off him onto the dirt and Steve lay sprawled beside him. He felt blood pouring from his side, dampening the ground and soaking the inside of his clothes. He watched the smoke curl in the sky above him and couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of calm as the body of the famous Winter Soldier lay unconscious beside him. It had taken nearly ten months but, but the mission was finally over. Steve sighed with relief and as he lost consciousness, he knew that when he woke up, he’d finally be back home in New York City.

* * *

Steve scrunched his eyes shut against the bright florescent lights above him. As he shifted, he felt his skin tug uncomfortably and there was a flash of pain in his side.

“Easy, man,” a familiar voice cautioned as a warm hand squeezed his shoulder, “last thing you wanna do is pop your stitches.”

Steve finally blinked awake and saw the familiar walls of the Avengers Tower Infirmary and the white swath of bandages wrapped around his chest. 

Still squinting in the light, Steve turned and grinned at Sam.

“Home, sweet home,” he said.

His voice was rough and sore but he didn’t care.

“Yeah, we’re home.” Sam smiled and shook his head, “Though when I got to Denmark and found you half dead, bleeding out from sixteen stab wounds in your chest I wasn’t sure you’d make it back.”

Steve scoffed.

“I got the Soldier worse though, right?”

“Uh,” Sam tilted his head back and forth, “no, not really. You shot him in the foot and that’s about it.”

“He was unconscious!” Steve argued petulantly, “And he went down first.”

“He woke up 40 minutes after I got there. You’ve been out for nearly 32 hours.”

“Who’s side are you on?” Steve complained loudly, slumping back into his pillows.

Sam laughed.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, “You did good man. I seriously didn’t think we’d get anywhere near him.”

“Thank you,” Steve said, exasperatedly, “I busted my ass to do it. Who’s handling the interrogation?”

“If you didn’t wake up within the next two hours Fury was gonna step in,” Sam said, “but if you’re feeling up to it, he’s waiting for you in SHIELD holding.”

“Hell yeah. I feel better than I have in the past ten months combined.”

“Your right lung wasn’t working until about six hours ago.”

“I said what I said.”

An hour later, Steve was up and about. The medics wanted to keep him on bedrest for longer but Steve waved them off. Hospitals plagued his childhood due to his own weak health and then, in his teens, his mother was diagnosed with cancer. He’d had more than enough of hospitals to last a lifetime so he discharged himself with a bundle of gauze and promised the medics he wouldn’t get in any fights for at least another 48 hours. It was a promise Steve would attempt to keep, though he’d broken it many times before. He hated the itching of stitches and the ache of dark purple bruises across his whole body, but it was better he took the brunt of the damage as opposed to someone without the super soldier serum to help them heal, so he tried to count his blessings as he hobbled into the elevator.

A few minutes later, Steve opened the door to his apartment for the first time in ten months. It was underwhelming to be greeted by the dim, soulless place he called home but he wasn’t expecting anything else. He walked inside and found a large ornate fruit basket on his kitchen counter with a pastel blue card sticking out of it. 

[Image: Pastel blue card reading: “Congratulations, it’s a boy!” The word “boy” has been crossed out and replaced with “the Winter Soldier.” Handwritten around the card’s text is a note: “Welcome home. I’m on a mission but I’ll be back tomorrow. -Natasha”]

Steve snorted and pinned the card to his fridge before shoving a handful of grapes into his mouth and heading for the bathroom. He carefully peeled himself out of his clothing and spent twenty minutes soaking under the spray of his shower.

As he let the water cascade down his body he took stock of the mess of half healed stab wounds across his torso. His sides were the worst hit, with some six or seven rows of stitches each, and a few errant slices drifted across his abs and chest. He grimaced as he gently scrubbed body wash down his front and felt the skin on his left cheek pull at a scab just under his left eye. Sam was right, that fight hadn’t been in his favor. 

Not that Steve was a stranger to fights he probably wouldn’t win. Fighting didn’t come naturally to him in the first place. He’d gotten into a few scraps as a kid but his asthma tended to do more damage than his opponent ever did. Even after he got the serum it had been a struggle to just get used to his weird, bulky new body. If he’d known the serum would do more than just heal his failing organs, he might have thought longer about accepting it in the first place, but when Dr. Erskine offered him, a dying 20 year old, an experimental healing serum he had accepted without much hesitation. Now he was a superhuman. It was an unexpected turn of events, but Steve intended to rise to the occasion, despite being trained as an artist rather than a soldier. Luckily he was a fast learner and, after a year of training, he had officially joined the ranks of the fledgling Avengers Initiative to put the super soldier serum to good use.

After taking a bit too long in the bathroom and spending an extra few minutes staring longingly at his plush, king sized bed, Steve pulled a plain t-shirt over his tac pants and took one of Tony’s quinjets over to SHIELD HQ. Twenty minutes later he strode into the holding cells of SHIELD’s most secure facility, easily masking the slight limp the serum hadn’t quite healed yet.

“I miss anything?” He asked as he took in the small crowd gathered in front of the cells.

There were six armed SHIELD agents keeping watch while Maria, Sam, and Clint looked over Steve’s meager Winter Soldier files. Through the one way mirror, Steve could see the Soldier struggling against the restraints that kept him tied down to his chair. There was a bruise across his temple and his foot was bandaged, but what caught Steve’s eye was the glimmer of metal on his left side. The Winter Soldier’s left hand was made of solid metal. That certainly explained his inhuman strength. The rest of his arm was covered by long sleeves and Steve wondered how far up the metal went.

“He’s been trying to get out since we put him in there,” Maria told him, “We’ve been discussing what the best angle for the interrogation is.”

“Did you get anything out of him before he stabbed you a bunch?” Sam asked teasingly.

Steve punched him lightly on the shoulder. He was too glad to be home to take any real offense and far too exhausted of looking at useless files to postpone a second longer. He wanted this to be done already so he could take a nap.

“Those files won’t tell you anything,” he said, “I’m just gonna go in.”

He turned and headed for the door to the cell.

“Wait, Steve!”

The door shut behind him before Clint could get out another word.

The Soldier stopped struggling and looked up at him. 

As he stared at the man in front of him, Steve realized that he’d never really seen the Soldier’s face. Even now, long strands of dark hair hung across his forehead, obscuring the details but Steve could still make out his square jawline, and sharp cheekbones. There was a cut across his bottom lip and dark circles under his tired eyes.

Strapped to his chair, the Soldier looked smaller than Steve had ever envisioned him.

The Soldier’s brow furrowed slightly while Steve just stared at him.

“Rogers, was it?” The Soldier asked, his eyes flicking down Steve’s body and then back up, “You’re looking springy for a guy I stabbed in several very vital places.” 

Steve shrugged and smiled easily.

“Not that vital, apparently.”

The furrow in the Soldier’s brow deepened.

“So, back to our previous conversation,” Steve said, leaning against the viewing window and pretending they hadn’t tried to kill each other last time they spoke, “Alexander Pierce. What do you know about him?”

The Soldier’s scowl turned to absolute fury. His fists clenched and Steve swore he heard the metal restraints creak, but the Soldier didn’t speak.

“Not a fan, I assume,” Steve pried, “You worked for him?”

The Soldier sneered.

“Once.” He hissed, “Before I knew he was Hydra.”

“Before?” Steve asked, “How could you not know?”

“None of us knew. Well,” the Soldier grimaced, “the good ones didn’t.”

Wheels turned in Steve’s head. Hydra. Pierce. STRIKE. SHIELD.

“You worked for STRIKE,” Steve whispered, “You were one of us.”

“That’s what I thought,” the Soldier snapped, “but the whole concept of ‘us’ went out the window pretty quick when Hydra showed up.”

Steve stepped forward crouched down in front of the Soldier. He tried to look up at him through the strands of dark hair that hung around his face but the Soldier turned away from him.

“But then you joined Hydra,” Steve replied, “and became their greatest asset.”

The Soldier flinched. He kept his face turned to the side, away from Steve’s gaze, but he could only go so far while restrained.

“You met an agent,” Steve continued, “Natasha Romanoff. She tried to get you out, but you turned on her. You chose Hydra.”

“I didn’t.” The Soldier insisted, shaking his head and pulling at his restraints again, “I didn’t.”

“That’s the story she tells.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“What did happen, then?”

The Soldier fell silent. His wrists twisted in their restraints. The silence stretched until Steve had to concede.

“What’s your name? You never told me,” Steve asked, hoping that even the semblance of trust might get the Soldier to speak.

“Does it matter?”

“To me, yes.”

“You want to run my name through your old STRIKE files to see if I’m lying.”

“That’s not my job,” he said easily, “though if you are telling the truth and if you want to get out of that chair anytime soon then that might be in your best interest.”

The Soldier hesitated.

“James.” He said softly, “James Barnes.”

“Okay then, James,” Steve tested.

Barnes’ eyes flicked to his. That was progress.

“How about some simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions for now?” Steve began, “Do you work for Hydra?”

“No,” Barnes said adamantly.

“Do you believe in their ideology?”

“No.”

“Did you ever?”

“No.”

“Did you choose to join them?”

“No.”

“Did you like working for them?”

“No.”

“Did you ask Natasha Romanoff for help?”

Barnes paused.

“Yes.”

“Did you sincerely want her help?”

“Yes.”

“Do you wish she had succeeded?”

“Yes.”

Steve thought for a moment.

“Do you believe SHIELD has been infiltrated by Hydra like STRIKE was?”

Barnes’ eyes met his again.

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” he muttered, “Nothing is incorruptible.”

“Is that why you refused our help?”

“I don’t want to be a pawn again.”

“What do you want?”

Barnes’ jaw tightened.

“I want to go home,” he said quietly.

Steve couldn’t help the wave of sympathy that rose in him at those words.

“What’s your cat’s name?” He asked.

This time when Barnes’ eyes met his, they were narrowed.

“I was wondering if you broke into my house or if you got someone else to do it for you.”

“I like to do things myself.”

“Apparently.”

“The cat didn’t seem to like me much.”

“Gee, I wonder why.” Barnes huffed, “His name is Alpine.”

Steve smiled a little.

“He scratched my boot.”

“Good.”

There was a sharp rap on the viewing room window.

“Rude,” Barnes remarked, “I guess someone back there doesn’t want to hear more about my cat.”

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be back,” Steve replied, “You can tell me more about him later.”

He stood and with one last look at the Soldier, he left.

“Dude.” Sam said flatly as soon as the door was shut again, “What the hell.”

“What?”

“That’s the Winter fucking Soldier,” Clint said, his head tilted as his eyes narrowed at Steve, “and you asked him about his cat.”

“It seems worthwhile to build some trust,” Steve defended, “he’s not going to just tell us everything outright.”

“Well, what I was _going_ to say before you completely jumped the gun,” Clint began, rolling his eyes at Steve, “is that we should wait for Natasha to get back before we make another move. She knows more about this sort of stuff than we do and we could use her insights.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“And could definitely use some insight now because everything he just said was super suspicious,” Sam added.

“Well he was telling the truth about one thing.” Maria looked up from her computer with a conflicted scowl, “He was with STRIKE before it fell.”

“Really?” Clint looked over her shoulder.

“We have full files, names, DNA, all of it from STRIKE’s old records,” Maria explained, “and we took a sample from the Soldier when he was in medical. It matches James Buchanan Barnes. Elite STRIKE agent under Alexander Pierce. And, get this, His parents' names were George Barnes and Winnifred Bratu. I guess that’s where the fake name came from.”

“Even so, it’s still possible that he joined Hydra before STRIKE fell,” Sam argued, “If he worked closely with Pierce he could have been flipped and then helped Hydra take over.”

“I’m not sure,” Steve muttered.

He turned and looked at the Soldier through the viewing window. 

Barnes wasn’t struggling anymore. He looked deep in thought, frowning at nothing while his fingers curled and uncurled around the arms of his chair.

“He’s an assassin, Steve.” Clint said, “I know you’ve talked to Nat about this. Even if he was forced to join, he rose high enough in the ranks that if he wanted to leave, he could have. He sabotaged Nat’s attempt to save him. He’s killed countless people. He has to be lying about something.”

“Alright, alright,” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, “We need to find out about what happened when Hydra took STRIKE.”

“We need to wait until Nat get’s back,” Clint said, shaking his head.

“He’s right,” Maria agreed.

Sam nodded as well. 

Steve sighed.

“Alright.” He said finally, “We’ll wait.”

* * *

That night, Steve curled up in bed with a sigh. In the ten months he’d spent away from home he’d almost forgotten just how nice the Tower’s fancy memory foam mattresses were. The sheets were cool and smooth and the pillows were a little too soft but still miles better than the stiff motel room beds he’d become acquainted with in the past few months. He pulled the duvet around him and would have been content to close his eyes and finally get a good night’s rest had Barnes’ face not appeared in his mind just as he was getting comfortable.

_“I want to go home.”_

Those sad eyes, the defeated slump of his shoulders, the fury in his fists.

Their conversation replayed in his mind. Barnes’ rage had only abated at the mention of his cat. Steve guiltily wondered what was happening to the little guy now that his owner had never returned. 

He rolled over and tried to ignore his own thoughts but the image of Barnes in his mind was insistent.

Steve stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom and sighed. He’d find no rest tonight with that face swimming before his eyes. 

He turned on the light on his nightstand and pulled a sketchbook out of the drawer.

It was challenging to recreate a likeness from just memory but Steve was determined. He sketched out that dark brow, the straight nose, the long locks of hair shielding him from Steve’s view. 

What was going on behind those eyes? Steve wondered as Barnes’ face took shape. He was a mess of contradictions. Their first meeting was full of open friendliness but a look at Barnes’ home revealed a wealth of suspicion. There was a softness about him that was apparent in his sweet tooth and his cat but it didn’t pair with the realities of being a deadly Hydra assassin. But Barnes’ particular brand of complexities weren’t completely alien to Steve. After all, Natasha was an assassin once— one of the best— now she ate chips and ice cream in Steve’s living room and used his Netflix password to binge watch _Terrace House._

He had so many questions. There were so many unknowns and so many things Barnes seemed unwilling to say. Hopefully, the others were right and Natasha would have better insight but Steve stared down at his drawing and wondered if maybe all Barnes needed was a little compassion.

* * *

When Steve went up to the SHIELD landing pad to wait for Natasha to return he was greeted with an entire shipping container’s worth of furnishings— all from Barnes’ apartment in Romania.

“Fury ordered the whole thing be brought over for inspection,” Maria told Steve as they watched the agents carry Barnes’ ugly sofa into the evidence hold.

“I told you all that I didn’t find anything there,” Steve replied with a frown.

“He thought it was worth a second look,” she said as Barnes’ refrigerator was carried past them.

“Is he expecting to find a usb of Hydra secrets hidden in some cat food?” Steve asked blandly.

Maria shrugged.

“Speaking of, do you know what happened to his cat?”

A sharp yowl echoed up the landing strip as a young SHIELD agent carried a large cat carrier as far away from her body as she could while two white paws batted out of the cage door towards her.

“Jesus,” Steve hurried over and grabbed the carrier from the woman, “Give him here, I’ll handle it.”

The agent seemed all too eager to get rid of the angry cat.

Steve peered inside and saw a flurry of teeth and claws but, thankfully, no apparent injuries.

“So, this is Alpine,” Maria mused glancing in beside him, “Oh, he looks mad.”

There was a sharp hiss from inside.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s got a lot to be happy about right now,” Steve remarked, trying to carry the cage as gently as he could.

“What are you going to do with him?”

“Uh,” Steve looked down at the cat carrier in his hands.

“You don’t know anything about cats, do you?”

“Uh, no.”

“Steve!” 

Steve looked up and saw a familiar redhead disembarking a quinjet at the far end of the landing strip.

“Nat!” He put the carrier down and a moment later he had an armful of Natasha.

“God, it feels like it’s been years since I’ve seen you,” she said, muffled against his chest.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, giving her a squeeze, “I’m back now and boy, oh boy, do I have news for you.”

“Did you interrogate him?” She asked before pulling back and looking curiously at the cat carrier, “Did you get a cat?”

“It’s his, actually.”

“The Winter Soldier has a cat.” She deadpanned.

“His name is Alpine.”

“The Soldier?”

“The cat. The Soldier’s name is… James.”

“James?” 

“Yeah.” Steve shrugged, “We all agreed that we should wait for you to continue the interrogation.”

“Well, at least some of you have some brains,” she joked as Steve picked up the carrier again, “Did you get my fruit basket?” 

“Yes,” Steve laughed and followed her and Maria towards the elevators, “I ate three apples, a mango, and half a pineapple for dinner last night because _someone_ ate all my snacks.”

“Well, _someone_ had to eat those pretzels before they went stale,” Natasha replied primly, “so I think what you meant to say was ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you, Natasha,” Steve declared loudly as the elevator took them down to the holding cells, “for eating my food and stealing my towels and carving your own butt-divot into my sofa.”

“You’re very welcome,” Natasha said, giving him a one armed hug around his waist, “It’s so nice to be appreciated.”

Steve rolled his eyes and hugged her back, holding the cat carrier out of the way so neither of them would get swiped by an angry cat claw.

“So, where are you at with the Soldier?” she asked as the doors opened.

“See for yourself.”

Steve watched Natasha’s face as she examined the video footage of his interrogation of the Soldier from the day before. She didn’t give much away but he saw the faintest twitch of her brow when the Soldier spoke about STRIKE.

When the tape finished, she looked up at Barnes through the viewing window into his cell.

Barnes was no longer strapped to a chair. His cell had been rearranged and fitted with a bed for long term usage. He was sitting on the mattress with his knees pressed up to his chest. His long hair still obscured his face but Steve caught a glimpse of his profile as he stared at the blank white wall in front of him. He had been changed into plain white pants and a t-shirt that showed off his sleek metal arm. It seemed to go at least all the way up to his shoulder, if not further. Steve tried not to stare even though Barnes’ couldn’t see him looking.

Sam, Clint, and Maria stood waiting behind Natasha.

“Well?” Clint gestured at Nat.

There was a pause.

“I assumed you verified his employment at STRIKE?” She asked.

“We did,” Maria confirmed, “It appears to be the truth.”

“Do you think he’s lying?” Steve asked.

“You certainly didn’t.”

Steve blinked.

“You feel bad for him,” she added before nodding at the cat carrier at Steve’s feet.

“You were supposed to be watching him, not me,” Steve muttered.

“I can do both.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, “You should go in again. If he feels like you believe his story, he might relax and slip up.”

“So, you think it's a lie?” Sam asked. 

“I don’t know,” she said, “we need him to explain what happened to him when STRIKE fell. That’s where his story will either fall apart or come together.”

“You don’t want to talk to him yourself?” Steve asked.

“No,” she shook her head, “He knows I’d be suspicious of him, given our history. I’ll let you know what I see from here.”

Steve nodded then looked back down at the cat carrier. 

“Well, let’s see how this goes.”

“Do you want any protection?” Sam asked as Steve picked up the carrier, “He’s not restrained.”

“Nah,” Steve dismissed, “he knows you guys’ll shoot him if he tries anything.”

“Okay, man,” Sam shrugged, “good luck.”

Steve took a breath and pushed the cell door open.

“I brought you a present,” he announced as one of the SHIELD agents quickly shut the door behind him.

Barnes looked up and quickly zeroed in on the carrier.

“Wow,” Barnes remarked, “me and Al have matching cages.”

He stood and Steve couldn’t help but tense. Barnes was broad, Steve already knew that much, but he seemed even more so with only a t-shirt obscuring his figure. The metal of his arm was dexterously carved to mimic real muscle and it glimmered threateningly in the light. 

Even without weapons, the Soldier could kill.

Barnes didn’t approach but remained standing as Steve knelt down and opened the latch of the cat carrier.

Alpine was out in a flash and dove beneath Barnes’ low bed, quickly hiding in the shadows.

“Nice to see you too, bud,” Barnes said before dropping down and lying flat on his stomach to see the cat hiding in the corner, _“Te-a rănit oamenii din SHIELD?”_ (Did the mean people from SHIELD hurt you?)

Barnes stuck his metal hand under the bed and Steve saw Alpine bat his paw at it. His little teeth chomped down uselessly against the metal and Barnes left his hand there to be chewed on.

Steve sat down next to the carrier and leaned back against the wall.

 _“Sunt sigur că agenții erau blânzi cu el.”_ (I’m sure the agents were gentle with him) Steve said.

He could tell that his Romanian accent wasn’t quite there yet and some of the words still tumbled unnaturally across his tongue but it was enough to make Barnes’ head jerk up.

“I thought you didn’t speak Romanian.” He accused.

“I didn’t,” Steve shrugged, “but after we met I figured It would be worthwhile to learn.”

“That was a month ago.”

“Yeah.”

“You learned Romanian in a month.”

“Well, I’m still learning.” Steve shrugged again, “I’m sure you understand. Romanian, Bulgarian, Russian, English— where did you learn to speak so many languages?”

Barnes’ jaw tightened and he went back to staring at Alpine under his bed.

“My family came to the States from Romania,” he said, “My parents were still learning English when I was born. I learned Russian as part of my training at STRIKE, the rest comes from Hydra.”

“How did you join STRIKE?” Steve asked, “From what I’ve heard, it was a pretty elite place.”

Alpine meowed softly and began to emerge from his hiding place, sniffing at Barnes as he tentatively crept forward.

“I went to university in Romania,” Barnes replied, reaching out to Alpine with his normal hand, “They scouted me pretty quick.”

“What appealed to you about them?” Steve asked, “What made you want to join?”

Barnes sat up and Alpine quickly hopped into his lap before sniffing at his chest and up to his chin. 

“They told me STRIKE was an EU based counter-terrorism and intelligence agency that was part of a network of organizations, including SHIELD, that protects the planet. With the discovery of intelligent alien life and enhanced individuals, I wanted to protect my home from whatever could have been coming.”

Steve tilted his head.

“You just recited the STRIKE mission statement almost verbatim.”

A smile twitched on Barnes’ lips.

“Is it so hard to believe that at 21 I bought into it word for word?” He scoffed, “When we, as a species, realized that we weren’t alone in the universe a whole world of uncertainty opened up. I realized that I could either sit at home, completely helpless when visitors came to Earth or I could meet it head on. So, when the opportunity arose, I joined.”

Steve hummed. It sounded reasonable enough.

“What about you?”

Steve blinked.

“What?” He asked.

“Why did you join the Avengers?” Barnes asked while scratching Alpine’s chin.

“Oh,” Steve shrugged, “same reasons as you, really. I had the capacity to help so I felt I had the responsibility to help.”

“Great,” Barnes’ lips twitched up, “so don’t go off saying my story is flimsy. It’s hard to be sincere in a world full of cynics.”

To Steve’s own surprise, he laughed.

“Don’t I know it,” he replied with a smile.

Barnes brushed his hair out of his face just a little and Steve caught a better glimpse of the bright blue eyes watching him from across the cell.

They both fell silent as Steve’s next question became obvious to them both.

“When did you realize you had actually joined Hydra?”

The curtain of hair closed on Barnes’ face once again. He buried his fingers in Alpine’s fur.

“May 18th, 2015.”

“That was the day STRIKE fell.” Steve said, brow furrowing, “You didn’t know until it was already happening?”

Barnes shifted, pulling his knees up to his chest once again and cradled Alpine against him.

“I didn’t know until after it happened,” he whispered, “I thought surely there was some explanation for what I saw that day. Some trick or lie got those agents, my friends, to open the doors and let the Hydra soldiers in. There must have been some manipulation that got my teammates to pull their weapons on each other. I must have misheard when Alexander Pierce gave the order to open fire.”

Barnes swallowed, then his forehead dropped to his knees.

“How did you survive?” Steve asked quietly.

“I’m not sure,” Barnes admitted, “I was hit, I lost consciousness, and when I woke up I was strapped to a table. They had all the tech we’d recovered, alien stuff, and they were talking about replicating an experiment…”

Barnes hands grasped either side of his head as if he were struggling to remember.

“An experiment…” he muttered, “…a SHIELD experiment.”

Jesus. Steve glanced over at the viewing window. He couldn’t see any of his friends through it but he knew they couldn’t have missed the coincidence.

“The super soldier serum,” Steve supplied.

Barnes looked up and nodded. Steve saw his eyes flick across Steve’s torso, remembering the fatal stab wounds he’d inflicted not two days ago, and connect the dots.

“It was you,” Barnes breathed, eyes wide, “They were trying to replicate you.”

Guilt churned in Steve’s stomach. He knew he wasn’t to blame for this but still he felt the weight of responsibility descending on his shoulders.

Steve swallowed and nodded once. There was a tense pause, then Barnes looked away.

“They tested a lot of us, I don’t know how many.” Barnes seemed to flinch at his own memories, “I just know that I was the only one who survived and when I came back to myself I… I was different.”

Steve knew that feeling all too well.

“I tried to fight it,” Barnes whispered, “but they had this chair and it… they would inject me with this…”

Barnes faltered.

“They tortured you,” Steve surmised.

“It hurt, yes,” Barnes fidgeted, “but that wasn’t the goal.”

Alpine meowed and Barnes buried his face in white fur.

“I couldn’t think,” Barnes’ muffled voice whispered, “They had these syringes full of… alien stuff and it would… I couldn’t think for myself. They would inject it and all I would know is the orders they gave me. All I could think about was doing exactly what they told me.”

“They made you the Winter Soldier.”

Barnes nodded.

“But…” he continued, “it wasn’t perfect. Sometimes it would start to wear off and I’d… I’d start to remember.”

“Brazil, 2017,” Steve supplied, “Natasha Romanoff.”

“I begged her not to send me back to Hydra,” he muttered, “She said she could get me out and I thought I’d finally be free.”

Barnes grimaced.

“But I only managed to hold onto my sanity for a few hours. When Hydra caught up with us I was already slipping and when my handler called me, I couldn’t refuse.”

Barnes fell silent.

Steve’s mind was churning. Barnes’ story bordered on impossible. Alien mind control? Even if something like that existed, how would Hydra have gotten their hands on it?

“I know you have no reason to believe me,” Barnes said, finally looking up at him with those blue eyes.

Resignation was etched into every facet of his posture and, if this story was true, Steve could see why Barnes had been so reluctant to trust SHIELD in the first place. He probably thought that his fate would be no better here than it had been with STRIKE.

“My team and I will look into it,” he said, trying to appear unaffected, “If you’re telling the truth, we’ll find evidence of what happened to you.”

Barnes nodded, unconvinced.

“Thank you for your cooperation, James,” he continued as emotionlessly as he could, “I’ll have them bring some food for Alpine along with your meals.”

Barnes didn’t respond but Steve could feel the eyes on his back until the cell door closed behind him.

Safely out of Barnes’ sight, Steve’s brow furrowed.

“Of all the stories I thought he would tell,” Clint said incredulously, “I really didn’t expect ‘alien brainwashing’ to be the first one.”

“You’d think he’d pick something more plausible,” Sam mused.

Steve opened his eyes and quickly found Natasha’s face amidst the others.

Her expression was as inscrutable as always but there was a tension in her jaw that Steve knew came from something hitting too close to home.

“Nat?” he asked, stepping forward.

She looked up at him and there was uncertainty in her eyes.

“In the Red Room,” she began, “there was always talk amongst the higher-ups about ways to ensure compliance. Manipulation, torture, threats, incentives, they tried it all.”

The room fell deadly silent. Natasha rarely spoke about her past. Even Clint’s eyes were wide.

“The discovery of more and more alien tech over the past few years has led to a rapid increase in experimentation for all sorts of things,” she said, “Weapons mostly but they’ve never stopped looking for better ways of controlling people. If Hydra, the Red Room— any of them— found something akin to mind control, they wouldn’t hesitate to implement it.”

“But is it even possible that they did?” Steve asked gently, “All the alien tech we’ve recovered from Hydra has been in pieces. It’s all been small stuff that isn’t compatible with any human inventions.”

“Eight years ago we didn’t even know for sure that there was other intelligent life out there,” Natasha replied, “We have no idea what their technology is capable of.”

“We need to talk to Thor,” Clint said, shaking his head.

“He hasn’t been to Earth in over two years,” Sam said, “the best we’ve got right now are Tony and Bruce.”

“Then we’ll bring it up with them,” Clint said, placing a hand on Natasha’s shoulder, “we’ll see what they think and then reassess.”

Natasha nodded but the haunted look on her face didn’t fade.

“Maria,” Steve called over to her, “have your guys run checks on all the information he gave about himself and his time at STRIKE. We might as well confirm the basics before jumping to the hard stuff.”

“Already on it,” she nodded and turned to address her agents.

“Oh, and Maria?” Steve added with a slight cringe, “maybe you can find an intern or something to run and get some cat food?”

Maria rolled her eyes dramatically.

“I can’t believe you gave him his cat back.”

All Steve could do was shrug.

* * *

_“Hm,”_ Bruce frowned at the growing Winter Soldier case file while, in the far corner of the video call screen, Tony continued to weld a fin to the lunar probe he was constructing, _“It’s hard to say.”_

“You think it could be true?” Clint asked, leaning against the SHIELD conference table they’d temporarily commandeered to contact Bruce back at the Tower.

 _“Thor has mentioned several species of aliens that use some form of psychic communication or hive-mind technology,”_ Bruce said, _“If Hydra managed to get their hands on some then they could do a whole manner of things with it.”_

“How would they have gotten it to work so effectively though?” Steve asked, “Basically all of the alien tech we’ve uncovered has been deeply incompatible with human physiology. There's no way Hydra could have made something as effective as Barnes suggests without…”

Steve paused.

Tony looked up from his welding and flipped up his goggles.

 _“Without being in direct contact with the aliens themselves,”_ Tony finished for him.

“What?” Clint shook his head, “Impossible.”

 _“Those transmissions,”_ Bruce darted over to his workstation and began typing rapidly on his computer, _“We’ve been tracking them for a year now and we’ve narrowed down the location to a solar system well beyond Asgard but we don’t have anything more substantial than that. If they managed to establish communications with Hydra they could be teaching them how to use their technology.”_

“Why though?” Steve asked, “Hydra gets mind control tech but what’s in it for the aliens? How did they even make first contact?”

 _“I don’t know,”_ Bruce muttered, worry creasing across his brow.

“Well, that’s ominous.” Clint mused.

“This is all circumstantial,” Steve shook his head, “we have no evidence that any of this is true. It’s just a theory.”

 _“We need more data,”_ Bruce agreed.

 _“Are there any facilities that the Soldier didn’t already blow up?”_ Tony asked, coming closer to the screen to peer over Bruces’ shoulder, _“Anywhere that might have a piece of the tech they used on him?”_

“I can ask him,” Steve replied, “but I’m not sure he’d tell us if there was any.”

 _“Why not?”_ Bruce asked, _“Doesn’t he want to get it out of Hydra’s hands?”_

“He thinks we might turn around and use it on him ourselves.”

Tony frowned.

_“Guy’s got trust issues.”_

“It seems like he has good reason to,” Steve supplied.

Steve’s phone suddenly let out a shrill emergency alert. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket to find a text from Natasha.

_Fury interrogated WS and decided to let him go. WS leaving SHIELD via garage._

“What the _fuck.”_ Steve turned and sprinted out of the conference room, almost knocking someone over as he ran but he didn’t bother to stop or apologize.

He bypassed the elevator and made a beeline for the stairwell before launching himself over the banister and falling thirty floors to ground level. He tumbled as he hit the ground to break his fall and then burst into the lobby, startling the woman at the front desk and the three security officers around her. He shoved past a few agents and broke through the doors to the garage just in time to see a man on a motorcycle gunning for the exit.

“Stop!” He shouted before hurling himself in front of the bike, grabbing it by the handlebars and bracing against the asphalt. 

He smelled burning rubber as the tires skidded to a halt.

“Your boss said I could go!” Barnes yelled.

He was still in a plain t-shirt and thin pants. There was a bag over his shoulder and Alpine’s cat carrier was strapped to the back of the bike.

“Why?” Steve demanded.

“Go ask him!” Barnes started trying to steer the bike around Steve.

“You can’t just leave!” Steve gripped the handlebars tighter.

“Yes, I can!”

“You’ll be dead within the hour!”

“Why? You gonna kill me, Rogers?”

“Where the hell do you think you can hide from Hydra?”

“I’ve been doing it very successfully for over a year. Get out of my fucking way!”

“You’ll be captured before you reach the Canadian border!”

Barnes froze. The bike’s tires stopped whirring against the asphalt.

“Canada?”

“Yeah,” Steve panted as he loosened his grip on the bike but didn’t let go, “that’s your only option.”

Between the strands of dark hair, Steve watched Barnes’ face morph from frustration to rage.

“Your ASSHOLE boss told me we were still in Europe!” Barnes shouted.

His metal fist clenched and slammed into the bike's crossbar, leaving a deep dent in the metal.

“We’re in Manhattan,” Steve said, eyes wide, “you won’t make it two hours before Hydra is on your tail.”

“That _fucker_ wanted me to either die or come running back to beg for his protection,” Barnes hissed through clenched teeth, “This is what I get for being nice to a stranger, huh? Well, fuck him. I don’t need him or SHIELD or you.”

The bike revved.

“Get out of my way or the next thing I punch will be your face.”

“Barnes—“

Steve ducked and felt metal graze his cheek as the punch swept past him. Then the bike jerked forwards and Steve hit the ground. 

When he looked up, Barnes was already on the street and a moment later, he was gone.

Steve groaned and hauled himself up. Some fifteen SHIELD agents were watching, wide eyed, from the lobby. Steve scowled and stalked back towards the entrance.

“Captain, your face is bleeding.”

“Where’s Fury?” He demanded as the small crowd quickly parted for him.

“The World Security Council has a meeting—“ someone started to reply but Steve didn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence.

Three minutes later, he walked into the Council meeting room.

“—the situation in Czechia was de-escalated by agents— Captain Rogers—“

The woman’s voice cut out as Steve slammed his hand on the touch screen and ended the call. The images of the five Council members vanished around Fury who slowly turned and gave Steve a bland look.

“Captain Rogers, I wasn’t aware you were invited to this meeting.”

“I spent ten months hunting down the Winter Soldier and then you just let him go?” Steve demanded, not bothering to lower his voice, “Without telling anyone or clearing it with the people assigned to investigate him? You release him into New York City, where Hydra is sure to find him within hours?”

“The Soldier was very confident in his ability to avoid Hydra,” Fury replied coolly.

“Because he thought we were in Europe,” Steve snapped, “and even if we were, why would you let him go? He’s been wanted by SHIELD for four years!”

“The Soldier made his position very clear, as did I,” Fury said emotionlessly, “I told him he could stay under our protection if he agreed to assist us in our efforts to destroy Hydra. If not, he could face Hydra himself. He chose the latter.”

“You wanted him to realize he was in New York and then come running back,” Steve echoed Barnes’ earlier realization, his own scowl deepening, “or be killed in the process.”

“If he isn’t useful to us then why waste more energy on him?” Fury said dismissively.

“If that’s your attitude towards the world then I’d start questioning your position as the leader of this organization.”

Fury’s eye narrowed.

“If we want to rid the world of Hydra we need to be prepared to make tough choices. I am the head of this organization because I have the strength to make those choices. It’s time you understood that, Captain.”

Steve’s jaw clenched.

“Don’t hold your breath.”

* * *

An hour later, the first reports of Hydra activity began trickling in. Ten minutes after that, Steve’s phone was flooded with alerts for Hydra squadrons being deployed upstate along with reports of bombs going off and gunfire along the freeway. He didn’t read any of them. He was busy flying a stolen quinjet towards the Canadian border.

It wasn’t long before he spotted smoke and left the jet on autopilot while he strapped himself to his motorbike in the cargo hold. The jet descended, the sounds of combat growing louder with every passing second. Something struck the side of the jet, then another. At his command the bay doors began to open. Steve revved his bike and the moment he saw solid ground he gunned it out the back of the jet.

He hit the ground amidst the ruins of an armored Hydra vehicle. He dodged flaming debris and swerved around the bodies littering the freeway. Up ahead he could see more trucks and a little past that was Barnes’ motorcycle, flaming and broken, abandoned in the middle of the road.

Steve passed another Hydra vehicle and saw forty agents swiftly surrounding a bloody and limping Barnes. Barnes didn’t have a weapon but was snapping the bones of anyone who got too close with his metal fingers. There was a bang and Barnes dropped to a knee as one of the agents shot him in the back of the leg.

Steve blared his horn and didn’t slow down as he drove straight into the circle of agents. The agents scattered, the ones who were too slow slammed into the shield Steve had strapped to his handlebars.

He broke through the barricade and came to a screeching halt in front of Barnes.

“Get on!”

Barnes’ face was wet with blood. His hair was stuck to his face and he was cradling a furry white lump against his chest.

Barnes shook his head vigorously.

They didn’t have much time, the Hydra soldiers were already regrouping. Bullets bounced off Steve’s shield.

“I can get you to the border!” Steve shouted at him, pulling a gun and shooting as many Hydra agents as he could, “Please, trust me!”

Pain shot up his side as a bullet grazed his ribs through his armor.

A hand clamped onto his shoulder. For a split second Steve thought he was going to be thrown from his bike, then a body pressed against his back and a hand wrapped around his waist.

Steve gunned it. 

They left the swarm of agents behind as Steve drove them up the empty highway.

Steve hit the com on the side of his helmet to signal to the quinjet. After a moment, he could see it flying above them and then beginning to descend, bay doors open to carry them to safety.

There was an echoing _boom_ from behind them and Steve watched a bazooka collide with the side of the jet.

“Shit!” 

He swerved a little but didn’t slow down. He felt Barnes duck his head down as he realized that Steve wasn’t going to stop.

Steve felt adrenaline coursing through him as he watched the gap between the crashing jet and the black road get smaller and smaller.

Steve gritted his teeth and over the whipping wind around them he heard the soft meow of the cat in Barnes’ arms. 

The roaring of fire grew impossibly loud and heat seared Steve’s skin but a moment later, it was gone. 

Steve looked behind him just in time to see the jet crash against the road, catching a number of Hydra vehicles in the process and blocking the road completely but they weren’t by any means safe. This road was long and had no exits for the next 48 miles. There was nowhere to hide as the Hydra vehicles began skirting around the destroyed quinjet.

Barnes was gripping him so hard it was starting to hurt.

“Barnes!” Steve shouted over the wind.

Barnes lifted his head.

“There's a gun on my left thigh. Can you shoot?”

There was a pause and then Barnes let go of his waist to grab the gun.

“Can I shoot.” Barnes echoed mockingly under his breath.

The sound of rapid gun fire mingled with the wind along with the crunching of metal and the screeching of tires.

Steve reached forward and grabbed his shield off the front of the bike.

“You might want this before they start shooting back!”

“Stop handing me things!”

Suddenly Steve’s vision was obscured with white fur and a moment later Alpine dug his claws into the front of Steve’s armor.

The cat looked up at him and hissed loudly.

“Hey, bud.” Steve said cautiously, “Please don’t bite my face.”

A paw swiped at his chin.

“Ow.”

He heard bullets pinging off his shield and felt the twist of Barnes’ body as he turned and shot behind them. 

Hydra just had to keep pace with them until Barnes was out of bullets, then they’d be sitting ducks.

Steve started doing the math in his head. If they went off-road there was a good chance the bike wouldn’t be able to handle the vegetation in its gears, if they continued forward they could maybe last another half hour, and if they turned around they’d be overwhelmed in minutes.

There hadn’t been much hope to begin with but Steve pressed on. He couldn’t let Barnes face his end alone. If they died here, at least Steve could take some satisfaction in knowing that he was at least trying to do the right thing. 

_“On your left.”_

Steve’s head jerked up as Sam’s voice came through the com in his helmet. 

“Sam?”

A shadow appeared around them, Steve looked up just in time to see a second jet’s guns point behind him. Suddenly the air was full of the sharp ping of bullets and screeching tires. Steve’s own gun suddenly appeared in his periphery.

“Barnes, wait! They’re friends!” Steve shouted, trying to nudge Barnes’ aim away from the jet.

“They’re SHIELD!” Barnes shouted back, aiming towards the turbines.

“They’re Avengers!”

“Same thing!”

Steve knocked Barnes’ hand to the side before he could shoot as the jet continued its descent, its back bay doors opening. Sam stood just inside, one hand hanging on to the side of the jet and the other beckoning them inside.

Steve heard Barnes groan loudly as he lowered his gun and Steve pulled up into the jet as the doors closed behind them.

Safe inside the jet that was quickly rocketing away from the carnage, Steve took a relieved breath.

“You alright, Cap?” Sam called as the sounds of combat disappeared behind them.

“Fine, fine.” Steve quickly got off the bike, still cradling Alpine.

Barnes had his shield on one arm and a gun in the other but now that the jet’s bullet proof walls were protecting him, he was starting to slump over and Steve got a better look at the wide bloodstains across his once white t-shirt.

“Shit, we got a med kit?”

Clint appeared from the upper level and his eyes widened at the sight of Barnes.

“Nat?” Clint called behind him, “Med kit?”

A moment later, the kit came flying down the hatch. Steve caught it and handed Alpine to Sam.

“Dude, I’m not good with cats— _Ow!”_

Alpine quickly disappeared into one of the jet’s dark corners. Sam rubbed a hand over the sharp claw marks across his forearm with a scowl.

“I guess the cat’s fine.” Clint remarked, eyeing Alpine warily.

Steve approached the bike cautiously, med kit in hand.

Barnes’ head was down, his hair wet with blood but still blocking his face as it always seemed to. His breathing was ragged and every contraction of his chest produced a wet sound as the bloody flesh struggled to contain his lungs.

Steve dropped to a knee beside the bike.

“Barnes,” he said quietly, “I’m gonna take a look, okay?”

Barnes didn’t respond but through the strands of wet hair, Steve saw blue eyes snap to his.

Barnes watched Steve’s every move as he reached over and took the gun from his hands, then unstrapped the shield from his forearm. The t-shirt stretched across Barnes’s chest was almost torn to shreds from bullet holes and stab wounds, along with the scrape of asphalt from when Barnes must have been thrown from his bike. Steve took a pair of scissors from the kit and carefully pulled the fabric away from Barnes’ skin to slice through it up the center and then through each sleeve. Underneath, Barnes’ chest was a mess. Much more of a mess than Steve had the skill to heal. 

“You need a hospital,” Steve said quietly.

Barnes remained unblinking as he shook his head.

“You’re going to bleed out.”

“Your boss did this,” Barnes whispered, “I’m not going back to him.”

“I know. I won’t take you there,” Steve promised, “We’ll go to Avengers Tower. They have an infirmary and it’s not under SHIELD’s jurisdiction. Besides, since you were officially released from SHIELD, they can’t arrest you again unless you commit a new crime. Fury took a risk letting you go and it’s not going to pay off for him, I promise.”

Barnes swallowed. Steve could feel the eyes of Sam and Clint boring into the back of his head.

“Why are you helping me?” Barnes asked so softly Steve barely heard it.

“Your story has more questions than answers,” Steve replied, “I’m not going to sentence you to death when we don’t even have all the facts. It’s not right.”

Blue eyes pierced into his. Searching.

“You’re in the wrong business, Rogers,” Barnes whispered, then his shoulders slumped and his eyes slid shut.

Steve caught him just as he started to slip forward and lifted his unconscious body off the bike as gently as he could.

“Are we actually taking him to the Tower?” Sam asked, baffled, “There aren’t any holding cells there.”

“We are.” Steve said firmly, walking past him to lay Barnes on the row of ammo boxes against the wall. 

“Steve’s right,” Clint agreed, “Even if the Soldier is lying, we need to see this through.”

Natasha stepped down from the upper levels, her whole body tense and her eyes narrow.

“I don’t like this, Steve,” she said.

“I know.” Steve began taking better stock of Barnes’ wounds, “Take it up with Fury.”

After a moment, she came to stand beside him, looking down at Barnes as he carefully pulled a piece of shrapnel from his side.

“I hope you’re right about him,” she muttered.

Steve sighed.

“Me too.”


	2. Chapter 2

It took nearly 24 hours for Barnes to wake back up. He was beat to shit so it wasn’t surprising and neither was the confirmation from the med techs that Barnes had been given a fairly comparable version of the super soldier serum. That was another point of verification for Barnes’ story. So far, it seemed like he’d been telling them the truth.

That didn’t mean the Tower wasn’t on edge though. For all of Tony’s innovations, he hadn’t put a holding cell in the Tower. The closest thing they had was a sterilized quarantine zone for alien tech before it had passed Tony’s safety tests but it was in no way suitable to house a person. After a long debate, it was decided that Barnes could be kept in one of the usual guest rooms on the communal floor. It was unlikely that he’d try to run considering how his last attempt went, but they still wanted to keep an eye on him. Not to mention the fact that the Tower was now an even bigger target for Hydra than it already was and Steve had severely damaged the Avengers’ relationship with SHIELD by taking Barnes in.

Natasha had gone to SHIELD HQ to smooth things over with Fury but Steve wasn’t going to sit around waiting for forgiveness. If no one else was going to stand up for the little guy then he had to. It was the least he could do with all the gifts he’d been given.

One of Stark’s techs was just finishing adding their most advanced locks to the elevators when Steve got the alert that Barnes was finally awake. They’d installed cameras, mics, new padlocks, and bolted all the windows of the communal floor. Half were to keep Barnes in and the other half were to keep Hydra out. The space was normally the Avengers’ lounge and led into a large gym and movie room, but it also had a few spare bedrooms that were finally being put to use.

Steve was just ushering everyone out and double checking all the new additions when Sam arrived with Barnes in tow.

“—keep an eye on you but you’re free to move around this floor,” Sam was saying, “besides that, the place is yours.”

Barnes had been cleaned up pretty well. He looked alert and was only limping a little bit. There was a tentative scowl on his face, though his long hair continued to obscure most of his features. Alpine was curled up in his arms and hissed loudly when he saw Steve.

“You feeling alright, Barnes?” Steve asked as the two stepped into the common room.

“Fine,” he said, a little tersely.

“Good,” Steve said with a nod, “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”

Steve led the way down the short hall to the guest room. It was fairly spacious, with tall windows, a large bed, a desk, and an en suite bathroom. It was impersonal, as all the Tower’s rooms tended to be, but not uncomfortable.

“The windows are reinforced and sealed so no one should be able to get in, here or anywhere else in the Tower,” Steve said, “and the whole place is well alarmed so you should be safe for now.”

Barnes wandered through the space with Alpine still clutched in his arms and gazed out the window at Manhattan below.

He was silent for a moment.

“Is that Polish bakery on Nassau Ave still around?”

“Jaslowiczanka?” Steve asked, surprised, “Yeah, it is. You from Brooklyn?”

“Bushwick,” Barnes said, turning.

“Midwood,” Steve replied with a smile, “small world. My ma would always stop at Jaslowiczanka when we went up to visit my grandparents.”

“They had the best paczki,” Barnes said, “my sister and I could eat two each before the train made it back to Central Ave.”

Through the thick strands of hair, Steve could almost see a glint of something bright in Barnes’ eyes.

“Next time I’m over in Brooklyn I’ll see if they’re open,” Steve offered.

There was a twitch at Barnes’ lips and then he turned to face the window again.

“I don’t suppose I can get any of my stuff from Romania?” Barnes asked quietly as he stared out across the city.

“Fury seized it all,” Steve told him with a cringe.

Barnes sighed.

“Figures.” He scratched Alpine’s head, “I had a quiet life there. I should have known it was too good to last.”

With a pang of guilt, Steve suddenly wondered if Barnes had friends in Romania. Maybe there were neighbors he chatted with, restaurants he frequented, or faces he knew that would suddenly be wondering where he went and what happened to him. Barnes’ apartment had been sparse, but homey. As much as it lacked, it had more of Barnes’ personality in it that Steve’s place probably did. 

“I’ll, um, let you get settled,” Steve muttered guiltily before shuffling out.

Sam followed him and Steve could feel his eyes on the back of his head.

“Steve,” he said sternly before Steve could bolt for the elevator.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you being so nice to him?” Sam’s brow was furrowed and his arms were crossed.

“I—“ Steve swallowed, glancing down the hall at the closed door of Barnes’ room.

“He’s a deadly Hydra assassin,” Sam said, punctuating each word forcefully, “and you’re offering to go buy him doughnuts?”

“He—“ Steve cut himself off again.

He thought about the kind man who offered him a ride. He thought about the cat who allowed no one but Barnes to hold him. He thought about the resigned defeat that seemed to be etched into Barnes’ very being.

“Because there’s a chance he’s telling the truth,” he finally said, “there's a chance that he was a good guy who got royally fucked over. There’s a chance that he got experimented on against his will because Hydra wanted someone like _me_ on their side. And there’s a chance that we can help right those wrongs by treating him with kindness and respect. Yes, he could be lying to us but, honestly, I’d rather be wrong than cruel.”

Sympathy appeared on Sam’s brow.

“I’d rather be wrong than cruel,” Steve repeated quietly.

“Okay,” Sam nodded, “I’ve got your back, Cap.”

Steve smiled.

“Thanks, Sam.”

“But if he fucks us over it’s your fault.”

“Fair.”

* * *

That evening. Steve had dinner in the common room. Clint had put together a rotation so there would always be someone around to watch Barnes and tonight was his turn. He reheated some leftovers from his apartment in the small kitchen attached to the communal area. He’d been informed that Barnes had been given a meal, which he’d taken into his room and hadn’t come out since. Steve could check the security feeds in Barnes’ room to see what he was up to but he knew Jarvis was keeping a close eye and would alert them if something happened. Plus, he always felt odd watching people who didn’t know he was there.

After he ate he wandered over to one of the many couches and settled down for a slow evening. He’d brought a sketchbook and he idly flipped through it and began doodling the plant on the coffee table in front of him.

His mind wandered as he sketched.

_“I had a quiet life there. I should have known it was too good to last.”_

When Steve had been at Barnes’ apartment, he hadn’t even seen it as a home. It was a mission: a puzzle. He hadn’t admired the architecture of the street or seen the building past the traps that might be waiting inside. He wondered if Barnes liked hearing the bustle of the city outside and the creaking of the stairs. Maybe the color of the wallpaper irritated him but he thought the cabinets were alright. Was that the sort of thing normal people thought about? Normal people who lived normal lives?

Steve had never had a normal life. His illnesses kept him at home for the most part. He went to school when he could but he learned mostly from the tutor who came to the apartment he shared with his mother when he was too unwell to go. He’d taken whatever little he was given because he knew he was lucky to be alive to get anything at all.

The one time he felt normal was the summer. His lungs always breathed better in warm weather and his shitty immune system had been more manageable too. He’d begged his Ma to send him to summer camp for years and finally, on his tenth birthday, he got to go, for a whole month! It was thrilling, getting on a bus with a stuffed duffle bag, waving goodbye as if he’d be gone much longer than four weeks. The bus took him upstate and a few hours later, he stepped out into the woods by a lake that seemed infinite with four dozen other kids all as giddy as he was.

That’s where he’d met Bucky. 

They were put in the same cabin along with six others. While they were picking bunks, one of the boys, Tanner, had shoved Steve into a wall. Steve wasn’t sure what exactly had started the fight. His hearing wasn’t so good but another shove was enough reason for him to kick Tanner in the shin.

It was Bucky who kept him from getting in trouble when the camp counselor came in at the noise. Steve wasn’t sure what he said to her— his ears were still ringing— but when Bucky was done Steve was sitting on his new bunk and Tanner had been moved to a different cabin.

They’d been fast friends after that. They shared a canoe on the lake, they made matching tie-dye t-shirts, and they sat side by side every chance they got. They spent hours talking and laughing up in the trees or hiking in the woods. Some nights, they would stay up late eating marshmallows and whispering to each other in their sleeping bags. A month later, they parted with a hug and the promise that they’d see each other again next year. And they did.

Every summer for three years, Steve would go upstate for what was undoubtedly the best month of his year. His illnesses were always at their most manageable, he was able to participate in almost every game and activity, and, most importantly, he got to spend it with Bucky.

And Bucky was amazing.

He didn’t stop hanging out with Steve the second year when he sprouted up a foot taller than Steve and twice as strong. He didn’t sprint ahead with the more athletic kids when they went on hikes up the mountain and, best of all, he didn’t treat Steve like glass when he needed to stop with his inhaler or adjust the back brace he wore for his scoliosis. Instead he’d shown Steve the bottle rockets he’d brought from home and they went out into the woods together one night to set them all off.

He was Steve’s best friend.

More than his best friend.

The third year, Steve was 13 and, even though Bucky was a year older, he still stuck by Steve’s side from the moment they spotted each other on the bus. At this point, they had a routine. They would bunk next to each other in cabin 2, they only participated in camp activities that they both wanted to do so they could be together, every night they’d stay up late talking, and, on the last night, they would sneak out after curfew to go for a midnight swim in the far side of the lake. It was Steve’s idea the first year, then Bucky wanted to do it again the second, the third time neither of them even had to ask.

Things had been going perfectly until the afternoon of their last day. Samantha from cabin 4 had approached the two of them on the docks next to the mess hall and asked Bucky if he knew about the clearing in the woods half a mile out. She said she and her friends were going out there with a few of the boys after curfew to play spin the bottle in the dark and asked him if he wanted to come.

She didn’t seem to care that Steve was there and it was obvious that he wasn’t being invited. Shame and embarrassment churned in Steve’s stomach. Bucky was going to abandon him to hang out with some girls on their last night together. It was fine, he’d be stupid to refuse. Steve shouldn’t have assumed Bucky still wanted to hang out with him. After all, Bucky was 14 and way cooler.

But that hadn’t happened. Instead, Bucky politely refused, threw an arm across Steve’s shoulders, and asked him if he wanted to go kayaking before dinner.

Steve wanted to be happy that Bucky had chosen him over Samantha and the other girls from cabin 4 but instead he was terrified. What if Bucky regretted spending his last night doing nothing with Steve instead of running off into the woods with a bunch of girls? What if Bucky changed his mind and left Steve to make his way back to camp alone while he went off in search of the clearing Samantha had talked about?

Steve decided then and there that he had to make himself as entertaining as possible, just to keep Bucky from leaving him. That night, after they snuck out, Steve dared Bucky to a cannonball contest off the low cliffs on the far side of the lake. Bucky won, of course, but Steve pushed himself hard, scrambling up the rocks and trying to make the biggest splash even when the cold water started to hurt. When Bucky got bored of that, Steve dug around on the shore for cool rocks for him to skip across the water and made joke after joke, trying desperately to keep Bucky happy even when his body started to shiver from the cold night air against his wet skin.

Eventually, though, Bucky noticed, as he always did. He dragged Steve back up to the tree line and wrapped him up in his towel, even though Steve insisted that he was fine. Worried that Bucky would think he was lame, Steve tried to goad Bucky into swimming around some more but Bucky seemed content just to sit beside Steve at the base of a tree for a while. 

Bucky started pointing out stars that he knew, drawing patterns between them with his finger and talking about the solar systems that orbited them and the aliens that he bet were out there. One day, he said, he was going to be an astronaut and when he got to one of those new solar systems he’d name it after Steve.

Then he’d looked back at Steve and grinned like he really meant it.

In the days that followed, Steve hardly knew where he’d found the courage to do what he did next. The memories felt more like a dream than reality. 

His heart fluttered, his breath hitched, and all he knew was that he _wanted._

Bucky’s eyes had gone wide when Steve leaned in and then he was leaning in too.

It was Steve’s first kiss. 

Innocent and gentle, but it still made Steve’s heart race. He would never forget the smile that spread across Bucky’s face when he pulled back. His dimples, the faint moonlight shining in his blue eyes, the warmth of his hand in Steve’s as they walked back to camp together. It was everything.

Then it was over. 

Steve remembered how apologetic his Ma was the next summer when she sat him down and explained as gently as she could that they couldn’t afford camp that year. Steve had nodded and smiled and assured her that it was okay and that he understood, because he did. He was 14 now, old enough to know how expensive it was to go to the hospital so often and how much his Ma worked to afford the medicine he took every day. He knew, but that didn’t stop him from bursting into tears the moment she was out of earshot. He sobbed into his pillow thinking of how he’d hugged Bucky goodbye and promised that he’d be back next year. He thought of how Bucky would look for him on the bus and wondered how he’d feel when he realized Steve wasn’t there. Would he still have a good time? Would he make friends with someone new and forget about him? Would he be angry that Steve broke his promise? 

Steve wished he could call Bucky to tell him he wouldn’t be there but he didn’t know his family’s phone number. He didn’t even know Bucky’s last name.

Looking back on it now, years later, Steve could at least smile. Even though they’d only known each other for a grand total of three months, Bucky had been his most impactful friend, his first kiss, and his first taste of heartbreak. Life had been simpler back then. His old trials and worries seemed so trivial now but he wouldn’t trade those long summer days for the world. 

Ever since he’d got the serum he’d had to abandon those sorts of niceties. The experimental medicine Dr. Erskine created had worked better than anyone had expected and ever since then, Steve felt as though he was living on borrowed time. He hadn’t expected to live much past twenty but here he was, at the ripe old age of 26 and still going strong. Strength, speed, healing, sharp hearing, and clear sight, it was more than Steve ever could have asked for. The last thing he wanted to do was squander the gifts he’d been given by settling down to live an ordinary life and be an artist like he’d once planned. He had a responsibility to do what he could with the powers he had. He owed it to his mother, to Erskine, and to himself to do something of value with his life since all he’d been before was a burden.

“Helloo?”

Steve jerked back at the sudden appearance of a hand in front of his face. He blinked up at Tony with wide eyes.

“Well someone was zoned out,” Tony laughed, flopping down on the couch next to him and slurping a sugary Starbucks concoction loudly, “whatcha doodling?”

The page of his sketchbook was now a forest of pine trees only parting to make way for a wide, toothy grin on a soft, boyish face. Steve quickly shut his notebook.

“Nothing.”

Tony quirked an eyebrow but didn’t press it.

“Well, it’s nearly midnight so you are relieved of duty, Mr. Captain, sir.” Tony gave him a lazy and deeply inaccurate salute, “My turn to watch the ol’ Winter Soldier.”

“Right,” Steve shook his head and stood, stretching out his stiff limbs and glancing around.

He hoped that if Barnes had emerged from his bedroom he would have noticed, even if Tony’s entrance had escaped him.

“Well, g’night, Tony.” Steve said, waving as he left, “Call if you need help.”

Tony waved back before loudly asking Jarvis to put something trashy on the TV.

Steve sighed as the elevator took him back to his apartment. He stepped into his living room and stared at the white walls and bland decorations some interior designer picked out long before Steve had moved in. He quickly walked past it all and face planted into his bed, letting his notebook fall from his hand and disappear somewhere in the folds of the duvet.

As much as he yearned for those quiet summer days of his childhood, he had a responsibility to the world and he couldn’t abandon it. Not for something as selfish as a quiet life. No matter how much he wanted to.

* * *

“The vials were maybe, three inches long,” Barnes said hesitantly, “they always injected it into the side of my neck.”

With his hands, he gestured vaguely towards his throat.

Tony listened with narrowed eyes and Bruce looked a little lost.

“It was sort of a yellow color, I think,” Barnes added, his brow furrowed, “I never really saw it clearly. The glass might have been colored. It had these symbols on it, I’m pretty sure.”

Barnes had been straining to remember all morning. It was clear that Hydra had kept him on a tight leash, never allowing him to see or hear anything beyond what was absolutely necessary until they were confident in their control of him. Steve had hoped that some detail would click for Tony or Bruce to help them untangle this web even further, but their expressions weren’t promising.

“You’re sure there aren’t any surviving vials?” Bruce asked with a sigh, scrubbing his hand through his curly hair.

“Not that I know of,” Barnes replied, “and if I knew of more I would have destroyed them a long time ago.”

“That’s probably for the best, if you’re telling the truth,” Tony said.

“I am telling the truth.” Barnes insisted before sighing and shaking his head dismissively.

“We need to talk to Thor,” Bruce said, not for the first time.

“You sure he got the message you sent him?” Steve asked, still not quite sure how sending a message to an alien god worked.

“Someone on Asgard got it,” Tony said, “but who knows if it was him.”

“And even if it was,” Bruce added, “Thor’s never been very punctual.”

“Guy showed up three months late to the opening of Avengers Tower,” Tony grumbled, “Do you know how awkward it is when an Avenger doesn’t show up to the biggest Avengers party ever?”

“You did make it clear that this was more important than a party, right?” Steve asked with a pointed look.

“ _Nothing_ is more important than—“

“Yes, Cap,” Bruce interrupted, “I wrote the message. It was pretty clear.”

Barnes gave Tony a look of confused irritation through his tangled hair.

“Okay, well,” Steve said, trying to sound reassuring, “I suppose all we can do is assume he’s busy doing some king stuff or god stuff. Whatever it is aliens do. We just have to wait.”

“I still don’t buy the whole king thing,” Tony muttered, turning back to his latest Iron Man upgrade, “you can’t be a god and an alien and a king. Like, pick one.”

The sound of a shrill alarm cut off Steve’s response. Barnes instantly tensed, wildly scanning for the threat, while Bruce and Tony’s heads both whipped towards the tech station at the far side of the room.

Tony was on his feet in an instant and darted through the workshop’s mess to open the alert. As he tapped it, an image appeared on the large screen above him.

A sleek metal object glistened against the black void of space. Its sides were ridged and etched with an intricate design with a central symbol at what Steve assumed was its front.

“My satellites are picking up something moving towards Earth,” he said tensely, “I know it doesn’t look like much but, according to this, it’s moving at over twenty thousand miles an hour.”

“Alien?” Steve asked, stepping forward.

“Hydra.”

All eyes turned to Barnes.

He was staring up at the image with a mixture of fear and anger swimming behind his eyes.

“That was one of the symbols,” he said urgently, “on the vials.”

Steve looked back at the alien object. The symbol was an oval with an arc at the bottom and two points at the top. Steve didn’t recognize it from anywhere and Barnes’ recognition of the symbol seemed awfully convenient.

“Run it through your data, Tony,” Steve said, “see if we’ve come across something like it before.”

Tony nodded and began tapping away at his computer.

“How long till it hits Earth?” Steve asked Bruce who was examining the screen over Tony’s shoulder.

“At this rate,” Bruce grimaced, “two weeks. But it’ll have to slow down if it wants to land instead of crashing into us. Three tops.”

“You sure it’s coming for Earth?” Steve asked.

“It could change course,” Bruce conceded, “but as of now, it’s taking a straight shot right at us.”

“I got a hit,” Tony turned the screen towards Steve and he felt Barnes hovering just behind him.

In the photographed wreckage of one of Steve’s attacks on a hydra base, just visible beneath the rubble, was the same symbol, distorted almost beyond recognition on the surface of a dented metal plate.

Once again, Barnes was telling the truth.

“This is from a base in Poland,” Tony said, “You and Nat cleared it out two years ago.”

“Hydra must have gotten their hands on this type of tech before,” Steve extrapolated, folding his arms as he thought, “Have Jarvis keep looking through the records for any other links between these alien symbols and Hydra. We have no idea what’s coming and we don’t have much time.”

“Should I alert SHIELD?” Bruce looked at Steve, “I know we’re not on great terms with them at the moment.”

His eyes flicked for a split second to Barnes, then back at Steve.

“Yes,” Steve decided, “Things are tense but that doesn’t mean we’re going to withhold potentially vital information. This alien object could change course or carry a message from a non-hostile source, but we need to be prepared for anything.”

“Should I rally the team?” Tony asked a grin spreading across his face, “I love doing the whole ‘Avengers Assemble!’ thing.”

“I know,” Steve shook his head, “but not yet. You two stay here, keep monitoring that thing. I’ll take the others and hit whatever other Hydra bases we know of. We might be able to find more information there. We need to get ahead of this.”

“You got it, Cap,” Tony spun around in his chair and Bruce began typing frantically on his computer to alert SHIELD.

With that, Steve turned and quickly began to weave his way out of the chaotic workshop, his mind already reeling with plans and contingencies for whatever horrors were on their way.

“Rogers!” Barnes followed him, his posture was tense and determined, “I want in.”

“What?”

“No one knows Hydra better than me,” Barnes insisted, “I can help.”

“I thought you didn’t want to work with us?” Steve asked cautiously.

“Not SHIELD,” he said. 

His eyes flicked away. 

“But I’ll work with you.”

Something warm flickered to life in Steve’s chest. He smiled.

“We’ll need all the help we can get.”

* * *

Two days later, Steve allowed himself to relax for the first time in what had felt like a small eternity. Smoke and gunpowder residue coated his whole body and he could feel specks of rubble scraping his skin inside his dirty uniform.

The Hydra base they’d found in Poland was a bust. No alien tech that they could find, even with Barnes’ insights, but, at the same time, another Hydra base wiped off the earth was its own reward.

Steve sat down on a large chunk of broken concrete and leaned against a bent metal beam. Ash fell like snow around him but he could still see Natasha poking through the rubble. Clint was peering up at the sky for the jet that was coming to pick them up and behind him, Sam fiddled with his partially damaged wings.

Barnes was standing away from the others. The area around the facility was a field of long grass with trees just visible in the distance but Barnes wasn’t running even though he could easily disappear again in the Polish cities nearby. Steve had found a standard tac suit for him to wear along with a rifle and a smattering of other weapons. It hadn’t been easy to convince the others to allow Barnes to join their mission but the impending arrival of potentially hostile aliens forced them all to pick their battles. Barnes was an asset, that was undeniable. He’d known Hydra’s security procedures inside and out. He was able to classify the facility’s purpose and estimate the number of hostiles inside almost to a T. He was a strong agent, if a little unused to working on a team. Twice over the last sixteen hours, Barnes had jumped the gun on a maneuver, forgetting that he needed to communicate with the rest of them before leaping into the fray but in the end, they got the job done. 

Steve watched Barnes step further out into the grass. He was turned away but Steve could just see his profile as he tilted his face up to the sky. His eyes were shut as he stood in the gently swaying grass and his long brown hair blew back from his face and Steve caught a glimpse of an angled jaw beneath his short stubble.

“Admiring the view?”

Steve’s eyes snapped away, his face heating up as Natasha sat down next to him. 

“Poland’s nice this time of year.” He lied.

“Sure. Who doesn’t love that early April chill.” Natasha snorted as she folded her legs beneath her.

They sat in silence for a moment. Steve could tell she was staring out at Barnes but he kept his eyes on the ground as she considered him.

“He’s not running,” she said.

“No.”

“And he didn’t backstab us when we got into the facility.”

“No.”

“He wasn’t leading us into a trap.”

“No.”

“He seemed to rather enjoy blowing up the weapon storage rooms.”

“Don’t we all?”

“He could be playing the long game,” she mused, “but… it seems unlikely.”

“Agreed.”

Steve met her gaze before risking another look in Barnes’ direction.

He hadn’t moved. His face was still tilted up to the grey sky, his rifle held loosely in his hands.

“You have the weirdest taste.” Nat muttered under her breath.

Cheeks heating up again, he turned back to her with narrowed eyes.

“You wanna play that game, Romanoff?” He retorted, nodding towards Clint who was trying to retrieve an arrow that was just too high for him to reach by jumping up and down while Sam laughed at him.

“Wow, not even going to defend yourself?” Natasha raised an eyebrow, a smirk already on her lips.

“There’s nothing to defend.” Steve insisted, “It’s not like that.”

“Oh?” Natasha’s eyes were piercing.

“I don’t even know him.”

“Hm.” Natasha hummed consideringly, “He’s cute though, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Steve’s cheeks were on fire, “It’s hard to get a good look at his face. Besides, didn’t you equate liking him to having a death wish?”

“Yes, but that was a year ago,” Natasha waved her hand dismissively, “I don’t think he’s evil anymore so you’re not _completely_ crazy for liking him.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You do.”

“I _don’t.”_

“Sure.”

“Can’t I just be nice to someone?” Steve huffed, “It doesn’t have to be a _thing.”_

“Okay, okay,” Natasha held up her hands placatingly, “you don’t like him. I get it.”

“Thank you,” Steve grumbled and turned back to face the field, realized that Barnes was still there, and turned again to face the flaming wreckage.

In his periphery he could see Natasha shaking her head, then she was walking up to Barnes. As Barnes turned to face her, his eyes met Steve’s. Steve quickly looked away. When he looked back, he and Nat seemed to be in deep conversation. Petulantly tense, Steve faced the wall until he heard the whir of the quinjets engines descending to retrieve them.

* * *

Steve grew restless as the weeks passed. Based on Bruce’s calculations, they had just over two days until the alien ship collided with Earth. A few SHIELD teams hunting for alien tech in Hydra’s possession had found scraps that linked the pod to Hydra but that was still all they knew. There was nothing to give them any clue as to what was coming or what Hydra’s role in their arrival was. 

Soon, other international organizations would begin to notice the object traveling towards the planet and the whole world would be thrown into a panic. SHIELD was already putting together statements full of useless, placating suggestions like, “stay in your homes,” and, “don’t panic,” as if anyone would listen.

Needless to say, Steve was having a hard time sleeping. Anxiety thrummed at the back of his mind every time the world got quiet enough for him to hear it. With the Poland mission officially considered a bust, along with the missions in Mongolia, Chad, Finland, and Ethiopia, there wasn’t much he could do until they found yet another Hydra facility to hit.

Steve wished he could relax, just for a moment, but it was his, and the other Avengers, purpose to defend the Earth. If they didn’t step up, no one else would.

Restless and uneasy, Steve found himself burning off energy in the gym on the Tower’s communal floor. With no one to spar with at 3AM, Steve whacked a punching bag. The rhythmic pulse of loud _thwacks_ soothed him for a while but not long enough. He practiced his kicks and tried some new shield tricks before that grew stale too. Looking for something to hold his attention again, he wandered into the other sections of the gym. There were the generic sections Tony and Bruce used— dumbbells, treadmills, and rowing machines— but Clint had a long, narrow shooting rage lined with arrows of all sorts and Natasha had gymnast bars and mats alongside an endless row of knives. 

Steve stared down at the knives shining in the fluorescent lights. His mind drifted back to the first time he confronted the Winter Soldier. He’d been dressed all in black and the glint of his blade flashed at him in the darkness. It flipped nimbly between metal fingers as the Soldier wove around him. 

Steve had heard people referring to their weapons as extensions of their bodies but had never truly understood it until he’d seen Barnes twirl a knife between his fingers.

Steve’s eyes followed the blades to the corner of the wall where he spotted a row of three rubber practice knives. He picked one up and felt the weight in his hands. In the emptiness of the gym, there was no one to judge him as he stepped back onto the mats and tried to remember how the hilt spun in Barnes’ hand. 

He mimicked the movement, flicking his wrist. The fake knife hit the mat with a dull smack. Steve picked it up and tried again. This time the rubber blade hit him in the thigh on its way down. The third time yielded similar results. The fourth would have impaled his foot if he’d used a real knife.

Eventually, he had to concede that his memory hadn’t managed to capture the whole movement in the darkness because what he was doing clearly wasn’t working. He watched the knife fall from his hands for the twenty-eighth time and stared at it on the blue mat as if the rubber would cower under his disappointed gaze.

“That one was kind of close.”

Steve’s head jerked up.

Barnes was standing by the dumbbells, watching him with a smirk on his lips. 

Steve instantly felt his face heat up and didn’t even have the excuse of exercise for how red he suddenly was.

“I can show you, if you want.” Barnes offered when Steve failed to respond.

The offer wasn’t condescending, which Steve appreciated, though the slight tilt of his head was a little teasing. Barnes was dressed in sweatpants and a black t-shirt with his hair loose around his face as always. He looked tired but alert.

“Sorry,” Steve managed to reply, “Did I wake you up?”

“Nah,” Barnes shook his head, “I couldn’t sleep.”

He stepped around the equipment and ran a metal finger across the row of Natasha’s blades before picking up one of the other practice ones.

“The trick is to keep a loose grip,” he said as the knife began to flow between his fingers, “guide it, but let momentum take it where it wants to go.”

Steve watched the dull blade twirl, then slow to a halt in Barnes’ hand. It was mesmerizing. He nodded at Steve.

“Try again,” he said.

Steve picked up his practice knife. He wasn’t sure how Barnes had managed to sneak up on him or what had prompted this impromptu lesson but Steve’s curiosity beat his suspicion, which had begun to melt a long time ago.

He mimicked Barnes’ grip in the handle and gave his knife and experimental twist. Barnes caught it before it hit the ground.

“Here.” He placed the blade back in Steve’s hand and cool metal fingers shifted Steve’s grip for him, “Try again.”

Steve’s heart rate kicked up a notch. Distracted, Steve tried again. 

“Keep your stance firm,” Barnes suggested gently, catching the knife once again, “lead with your forefinger. The thumb is just for balance.”

This time warm skin met his as Barnes adjusted his hand once again.

“Who taught you this?” Steve asked, peering down through Barnes’ soft looking hair.

Barnes’ hand fell away.

“No one,” he said, “I just use knives a lot.”

There was a tension around Barnes’ shoulders that Steve was beginning to recognize as a sign that he was thinking about Hydra.

“Hm,” he mused, trying to balance the blade in his hand, “I prefer bashing heads in with a giant metal plate.”

To Steve’s surprise, Barnes snorted.

“Elegant.”

Steve smiled back.

“Gets the job done.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. Barnes looked away.

“I saw you bounce it off that Hydra agent in Poland,” he said softly, “I don’t know how you calculate the ricochet trajectory but it sure was something.”

“Oh, well,” Steve had never been bashful before but something about Barnes' words made him blush, “it's nothing really, once you get the hang of it.”

“Is that it?” Barnes gestured behind Steve’s punching bag where his shield was resting against the wall.

“Yeah.” 

Steve went over and picked it up. The original red, white, and blue design had been toned down to just silver and blue for stealth purposes but the star was still visible in its center. He held it out to Barnes, who took it curiously.

“It’s so light,” he remarked as he turned it over in his hands to look at the straps on the back, “I noticed that last time I held it but I wasn’t sure if it was just the adrenaline.”

“It’s vibranium,” Steve told him, “it's got a lot of unusual qualities.”

“Hm,” Barnes nodded and handed it back, “I bet you know them all as well as I know my knives.”

“Is that a challenge?” Steve asked with a grin.

A good sparring match was sure to get Steve’s blood pumping and Barnes was sure to be a worthy opponent. 

Barnes’ eyes flicked to his and his lips twitched up.

“I could take you.”

“Our last fight begs to differ,” Steve insisted, his smile growing as he strapped his shield to his arm.

“If I’d known you weren’t a normal human I would have gone for your head instead of your organs,” Barnes put the rubber knives back in their place and picked up a real one.

“Excuses,” Steve replied, planting his bare feet on the mats, “C’mon. Best two out of three.”

Barnes was suddenly completely still, his back still turned to Steve. For a moment, Steve wondered if Barnes had changed his mind about sparring then a knife whizzed past his face. Next thing he knew, Barnes was on him. An unrelenting string of punches flew at him, interspersed with swipes of the dagger. Steve blocked and dodged, rolling out of the way before knocking Barnes’ metal arm aside with his shield to create an opening for his own fist. He got Barnes once, twice, in the side, then Barnes got his ankle around the back for Steve’s knee and he went down. Steve quickly rolled over to avoid Barnes’ next hit and flipped himself back onto his feet. The glint of a now familiar knife flip danced before his eyes and he dodged the next two swipes of Barnes’ blade. 

Through the sharp movements of combat, Steve swore he saw Barnes smiling as his metal hand grabbed the front of Steve’s tank top and hauled them both to the ground. 

Barnes knocked the shield from Steve’s arm, sending it clattering to the ground, and his knife pierced the mats scarcely an inch left of his head.

Barnes’ hair fluttered in Steve’s face, tickling his nose.

“Barnes: one. Rogers: zero.” Barnes said cheekily before pulling his knife out of the mats and standing. 

From his position sprawled on the ground Steve was in the perfect position to grab Barnes by the ankles so he did. Startled, Barnes crashed back down and Steve quickly got himself on top, batting away Barnes’ dagger and getting two jabs in before being knocked off. Barnes flipped up to a crouch and the hilt of his dagger clipped Steve across the temple.

Neither of them were putting much force into their hits but the glancing blow was enough for Steve to change his approach. He switched to a series of kicks, keeping himself at a distance while still managing to swipe at Barnes, who shifted into a defensive position. One last blow to the chest and Barnes was against the wall. Before Barnes could jab his knife out again, Steve had a hand around his throat and the other pulled back to punch him in the face.

“One, one,” Steve whispered with a triumphant grin.

Barnes’ looked up at him with wide eyes. He was panting and a thin sheen of sweat was building across his skin. Steve could feel Barnes’ pulse quickening beneath his fingertips. Steve’s smile began to slip as his fingers lingered against Barnes’ throat. Barnes’ eyes flicked down to his lips and then back up.

Suddenly, Steve was hot all over.

Before he could do more than take another breath, Barnes’ metal hand knocked his away. Steve had a sudden vision of Barnes’ grabbing him by the back of the neck and hauling him in until their lips collided, but it remained scarcely a fantasy as Barnes shoved him back before spinning his knife once more and spurring on the last round of their fight.

Steve distractedly shook all his unhelpful thoughts about Barnes’ muscular shoulders from his mind and tried to focus as Barnes dropped to the ground and spun his leg out. Steve managed to avoid tripping but an uneven step brought him to a knee all the same. He caught Barnes’ kick with one hand and pulled his leg forward so he was forced to drop too. The second he was on the ground Steve quickly wrestled the knife from his grasp before turning it on its owner. Barnes deflected the blade with his metal arm before twisting back up to his feet to meet Steve’s renewed onslaught. He didn’t bother trying to mimic Barnes’ knife skills this time, instead he slashed and stabbed while Barnes darted around, dodging each swipe before spotting Steve’s shield still on the ground and rolling towards it. 

Now they both held weapons they didn’t really know how to use. Steve bit back a laugh as Barnes tried to whack him with the edge of the shield and slipped, unused to the shield's vibration absorbing abilities. Steve came at him with the knife but fumbled and Barnes easily slipped out of the way. Barnes pulled the shield off his arm and Steve’s eyes widened as he realized what Barnes was about to do. Steve dropped to the ground and watched the shield fly from Barnes’ hand. It arced, bouncing off the barbell setup and cracking the drywall before coming back at Barnes, hitting him square in the sternum.

Barnes hit the ground with a gasp and Steve quickly crawled over, abandoning the knife.

“Are you okay?” He gasped, wide eyed.

Barnes blinked up at him. As his hair fanned out in a dark halo around him, but a few wayward locks remained strewn across his face.

“You’re bleeding,” Barnes remarked breathlessly.

Steve looked down. He hadn’t noticed the knife slice his palm but the blood had already smeared across his arm.

He looked back at Barnes, his lips already stretching into a smile. Barnes was the first to laugh, it was a bright melodic sound, and Steve quickly followed. Barnes pushed himself up and buried his face in his hand, laughing as Steve tried to wipe the blood off on his tank top.

“It took— It took ten seconds,” Barnes got out between his gasps of laughter, “for us to hurt ourselves more than we could hurt each other.”

Steve threw his head back with a laugh and let himself collapse backwards onto the mats.

“So, do we call that a tie or?”

Barnes’ shoulders shook harder as Steve grinned up at him.

“Pathetic, is what I’d call it,” he replied through his smile before grimacing and rubbing his chest, “God, that thing packs a punch. Your hand okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve held his hand up and examined it.

He’d got himself right through the thick base of his thumb and across the heel of his palm. It was a solid slice and it stung more than Steve would ever admit.

“I mean,” Steve shrugged, “I’ve had worse.”

“So have I.”

With a sigh, Barnes lay back across the mats a few feet away from Steve, who’s attention was suddenly drawn to the metal prosthetic implanted in Barnes’ shoulder. Steve decided not to ask.

“When I was a kid,” he said in a light tone, “I tried to climb the fire escape outside our apartment because I accidentally dropped my Ma’s nice watch out the window and it got stuck in the grates.”

In his periphery he saw Barnes’ head turn towards him.

“I fell into a dumpster.”

Barnes’ laughter was starting to become a familiar sound.

“Were you okay?” Barnes asked through his grin.

“Couple scrapes, bit of glass,” Steve waved it off, “my Ma sure was pissed though.”

“I can imagine,” Barnes looked back up at the ceiling smile still on his face.

_“Rrrreowww?”_

Steve looked up at the sound of a high, rolling meow and saw Alpine sniffing around the doorway before stepping into the gym.

“One summer,” Barnes began softly, holding a hand out to Alpine, “my sister dared me eat a tub of cake frosting that had expired two years before.”

Steve raised his eyebrows.

“I’ve never puked so hard before or since.”

Steve laughed as Alpine came at Barnes’ request and climbed onto his chest.

“Hey, bud,” Barnes said softly to Alpine.

Alpine sniffed his face before sitting down and pawing at Barnes’ chin. It was stupidly adorable.

Steve needed to sleep. It was nearly 4AM and he was watching Barnes play with his cat, hoping his shirt would ride up a little more so Steve could get a glimpse of his abs and now was so not the time for those kinds of thoughts.

“You good?”

Steve looked up. Barnes was watching him with a raised eyebrow with a hand still scratching just under Alpine’s chin.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve cleared his throat, “just tired.”

Barnes didn’t look convinced.

“How’d you and Alpine get together?” Steve asked, attempting to divert Barnes’ attention until he could make a tactical retreat back to his apartment to take a cold shower.

“Oh, I found him on the streets of Spain,” Barnes said, his voice going soft as he squished Alpine’s face between both hands, “I made the mistake of feeding him one too many times and then I got worried that he’d starve when I left.”

“So you brought him with you?”

“Yeah,” Barnes shrugged, “It probably wasn’t the smartest decision considering my, uh, lifestyle, but he’s okay and I needed a friend.”

Steve smiled, he understood that at least.

Alpine's eyes turned on him and Steve quickly went still. The cat hissed once before licking Barnes’ hand and ignoring Steve completely.

“He’s gonna hate me forever,” Steve lamented with a pout.

“Oh, he’ll get over it,” Barnes dismissed, “probably.’

Steve stared up at the fluorescent lights. Guilt clawed at him. It was his fault that Alpine had been in so much danger. It was his fault that Barnes was here instead of at home in Romania. It was his fault that Barnes was trapped in this tower while Hydra stalked the streets outside, waiting for him to make an appearance. It was his fault that Barnes had been experimented on in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

In his periphery he saw Barnes still and his head turn.

“What?”

“I’m sorry I dragged you out here,” he continued, “and that your home was picked apart and that I destroyed any possibility of you returning to your life in Romania. If I’d known what you’d been through, or who you really are, I wouldn’t have done it.”

Silence followed. 

He didn’t turn to look at Barnes. He couldn’t.

“I know.” Came the tentative answer, “You thought you were doing what was right. I believe that.”

“Still,” Steve said, “I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

Steve finally looked over. Barnes was staring at him with a look Steve couldn’t decipher. He held Barnes’ gaze for a moment before noticing how soft his lips looked.

Uncomfortably hot once again, Steve decided now was a good time to make his exit.

“Thanks for the fight,” Steve said sitting up, “even if neither of us won.”

“I’m sure we’ll get a rematch at some point,” Barnes replied with a smile, not getting up.

“Probably,” Steve nodded, “Well I’ll see you tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll have another Hydra base to hit by then. Get some rest, James.”

Steve stood and stretched a little.

“Sure. G’night, Cap.”

Steve paused as he stepped away.

“I know everyone calls me Cap but you can call me Steve, if you want.”

“Steve? Steve Rogers?”

Barnes sat up, his brow furrowed with Alpine still cradled in his arms. He looked up at Steve with a critical eye.

“You grew up in Brooklyn?” Barnes asked in an oddly urgent manner.

“Yeah,” Steve hesitated, “Why?”

“Did you go to Camp Lehigh when you were a kid?”

Steve blinked in surprise.

“Uh, yeah I did,” he dropped back down to a crouch in front of Barnes, “did you?”

Barnes didn’t respond, his eyes were rapidly flicking across Steve’s face.

“Holy shit,” Barnes whispered, a grin spreading across his lips, “Steve Fucking Rogers.”

Steve was wracking his brain for a James Barnes but nothing came to mind. There had been Bucky, Minho, Gabe, Tim, Lee, Jonathan, Pablo, Tanner…

“I’m sorry,” Steve shook his head, “I don’t remember—“

“It’s me,” Barnes insisted excitedly, “It’s Bucky.”

Steve jerked back. 

Bucky.

He stared at Barnes. It was hard to tell. Still smiling, Barnes reached up and tucked the hair behind his ears and for the first time, Steve got a good look at the Winter Soldier’s face.

Blue eyes peered up at him from beneath a dark brow above a strong jawline. His straight nose was framed by high cheekbones and an achingly familiar smile.

The image of a young boy with a floppy curl of hair swam before him.

Steve was suddenly breathless.

“Bucky?” He whispered.

Bucky’s face lit up. He dropped Alpine and flung his arms around Steve’s neck. Steve caught him automatically, his mind still reeling as Bucky began frantically babbling against his shoulder.

“God, I’m so sorry, Stevie. I meant to keep my promise, I really did, but my mom got a job offer in Indiana and a week after school ended we moved out there. I tried to look you up to find a phone number or an email or something but there are so many goddamn Steve Rogers’ in the world and I just couldn’t find you.”

“I—“ Steve was still too shocked to reply.

“I was so worried that you’d be upset when I didn’t show up but I promise it wasn’t because I didn’t want to see you.”

Bucky squeezed him tighter for a moment before letting go. He pulled back with both hands on Steve’s shoulders. Steve let him go but his arms remained hovering as he blinked up at Bucky’s face.

Bucky’s head tilted to the side when Steve didn’t respond.

Steve shook himself out of his surprise and clutched Bucky’s wrists.

“I— Yeah, I’m…” Both the skin and the metal under his fingers shifted as Bucky squeezed his shoulders, “Wow, Bucky.”

As if a damn had broken, all the feelings he had for the boy he’d known on those long summer days came flooding over him. The afternoons spent fishing, the campfire songs, the sneaking out at night to skip rocks over the moonlit lake. Steve sounded breathless and awed even to himself as Bucky smiled once again. Now that his hair was pulled back there really wasn’t anything preventing Steve from confronting how stupidly hot his first crush had gotten.

“You’re not mad?” Bucky asked as Steve continued to flounder, “I wanted to see you again, I really did. I complained across the entire country.”

Steve heard Alpine meow from somewhere next to him but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Bucky.

“No, no.” Steve shook his head, trying to force his mouth to form coherent words, “No, it’s okay. I didn’t go that year either.”

“What?”

“I moped all summer,” Steve explained with a shaky laugh, “but we just couldn’t afford it.”

Bucky nodded, relieved, and his hands slipped from Steve’s shoulders but Steve held on to them and squeezed Bucky’s fingers between his own.

“I didn’t know Bucky wasn’t your real name.”

“Everyone calls me that,” Bucky said with a shrug and a smile, “Well, they used to. When I joined STRIKE I worried it sounded too juvenile so I started going by James. Not that it helped. I had a baby face for ages.”

Steve smiled weakly. He was staring, he knew he was still staring. He couldn’t help it.

Bucky. James Barnes. The Winter Soldier. His first heartbreak. His mission. His friend.

 _Oh my god,_ Steve’s mind tripped over itself, _I’ve kissed the Winter Soldier._

Steve could deal with it later. He could deal with the Soldier, the Hydra assassin, and everything that came with that later. Right now, he didn’t want to be an Avenger. He just wanted to be Steve, a normal kid, seeing his childhood best friend for the first time in years.

He let the Captain slip away and his lips tugged into a smile.

“Bucky,” he sighed.

He pushed forward and this time when they hugged he squeezed as tight as he wanted. He felt a relieved laugh emanate from Bucky’s chest as he buried his face in it. Steve held on tight and sank into the familiar embrace. 

“God, I missed you,” he whispered against Bucky’s T-shirt, “I thought about you all the time. I was so afraid you hated me.”

“Never,” Bucky whispered back, “You were my friend.”

Steve didn’t bother suppressing his smile. He briefly wondered if it would be weird for him to bring up the fact that their kiss had been his first. Just the thought of it made his heart race. Another time, maybe.

“You were mine.”

Metal fingers squeezed the back of his neck.

“You used to be the lankiest kid at camp, now look at you,” Bucky pulled back and slapped Steve’s shoulders good-naturedly, “You’re a superhero.”

Steve laughed awkwardly and waved off Bucky’s praise.

“It was unintentional, I promise.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t know the serum would do this,” Steve told him with a shrug, “All I knew was that there was a chance it would save my life.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed.

“Dr. Erskine was trying to create a serum that would help people with shitty organs heal themselves.” Steve explained, “I don’t think anyone was expecting it to work quite so well. It healed me but I also grew an extra foot and put on a hundred pounds of muscle. Then there’s the super fast healing, the heightened senses, and all that. At the time, Fury was starting to put together the whole Avengers thing and it just made sense.”

“To who?” Bucky asked with a baffled expression, “Why didn’t you just go home and live your life?”

“Well, if the serum just healed my body, I would have,” Steve said, “but with all the extra stuff, it didn’t make sense not to put my superhuman skills to use. Fury asked me to help defend the world and I couldn’t just turn him down.”

“Hm,” Bucky’s head tilted, “I mean, you could have but you always liked picking fights.”

“Hey, I never fought with someone who didn’t deserve it,” Steve replied righteously.

“Half the time you couldn’t even hear the insults they were yelling.”

“I knew they were insults, what else did I need to know?”

“You were never any good at it though,” Bucky recalled, “you got your ass kicked every time.”

“I did not,” Steve replied petulantly.

“You did.”

“I kicked _your_ ass well enough.” Steve froze, his eyes wide, “Oh, fuck. I shot you in the foot.”

Bucky threw his head back and laughed.

“I—I stabbed you like twenty times!”

Steve covered his face with both hands and fell back onto the mats, laughing as he choked out his response.

“I didn’t know it was you!”

Broad hands hauled him back up.

“If you’d have just introduced yourself properly the first time we met instead of giving me your _title_ we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“You could have told me your real name when I asked!”

“James is my real name!”

“I didn’t know that!”

They descended into laughter once again. Steve leaned forward and pressed his smile against Bucky’s shoulder.

“How’s your Ma?” Bucky asked, giving Steve a little nudge, “She still in Brooklyn?”

Steve flinched and pulled back.

“She passed away,” he said softly.

“Shit, Stevie, I’m so sorry,” Bucky gripped his shoulder and squeezed tightly.

The hurt of his mother’s death had grown easier to bear over the years but Bucky’s concern was comforting all the same.

“It was cancer,” Steve continued, shaking his head, “so we saw it coming.”

“Recently?” Bucky asked gently.

“I was 15.”

“Jesus,” Bucky leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Steve’s, “what happened to you?”

“Foster homes for a while,” Steve told him, “I was in and out of hospitals a lot and it only got worse as I got older. That’s why I agreed to try the serum, I had nothing to lose if it failed.”

“You were that sick?” Bucky pulled back, worry creased across his brow.

“I was never expected to live very long,” Steve shrugged, “I’m lucky to be here at all.”

“Well,” Bucky smiled sadly, “I’m glad it worked.”

“Me too,” Steve smiled back, “What about you? Your sister…?”

Sadness flitted across Bucky’s features and Steve’s heart sank.

“She’s alive,” Bucky said quickly at Steve’s expression, “but Hydra told her I died when STRIKE fell.”

“Fuck,” Steve scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“There was a funeral and everything,” Bucky scowled down at his crossed legs, “I’ve thought about contacting her but I’m sure Hydra has eyes on her in case I do. Besides, I don’t even know what I would say.”

“Yeah,” Steve took Bucky’s hand, “Fuck, I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do to help—“

“You’re trying to take Hydra down,” Bucky interrupted with a soft expression, “That’s the most helpful thing you could be doing for me.”

Steve squeezed his hand.

“We’ll get them, Buck,” he promised, “You won’t be stuck here forever.”

A polite smile flicked across Bucky’s face. Steve could tell he didn’t believe him and there wasn’t much Steve could say to convince him. All he could do was make good on his promises.

“You’ll see,” Steve finished decisively.

Bucky huffed and a more genuine smile appeared on his lips.

“Stubborn, as always.”

“You know it,” Steve grinned cheekily, “It’s part of my charm.”

Bucky snorted loudly.

“Not the word I would use.”

“Hey!” Steve laughed.

A sharp meow cut Bucky’s laughter short.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I not paying enough attention to you, your highness?” Bucky teased as he picked up Alpine and set him in his lap.

Steve smiled down at the cat and for once, Alpine seemed ambivalent to his presence instead of immediately hostile.

Steve gasped exaggeratedly.

“He didn’t even hiss,” he whispered.

Bucky snorted.

“Low bar—” the words halted as Bucky broke into a wide yawn.

“I think it’s bedtime,” Steve said with a grin, “C’mon.”

“What? I’m not even tired.”

Steve had a sharp memory of Bucky saying the exact same thing over ten years ago.

“Last time you said that our dinghy capsized because you stayed up real late and then fell asleep at the tiller.”

Bucky laughed.

“That was not my fault! That idiot, Tanner, said he could stay up the latest and I couldn’t just let him win!”

“We sat on our upside down boat for forty-five minutes until someone came to get us.”

“And we had a great time,” Bucky insisted, “I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

They had. It was one of Steve’s fondest memories of camp. Lying next to Bucky on their upside down boat, just talking while they watched the clouds roll by.

“Well, don’t expect me to let you drive anything tomorrow,” Steve said as he stood.

“You’re still up too, Stevie,” Bucky reminded him as he took Steve’s outstretched hand, “So don’t get all high and mighty with me.”

Steve laughed as Bucky stood and stretched, Alpine still scooped in his arm.

“Time is it, anyway?” Bucky asked as they headed for the door.

“Just past 4.”

“Jesus, tell me you don’t normally work out at this hour.”

“Nah,” Steve scoffed, “I was just having a rough night.”

Steve shut off the lights as they left and walked back into the common room towards the hallway that led to Bucky’s room.

“Are you feeling better now?”

Bucky turned to face him before heading down the hallway. His hair was still tucked neatly behind his ears, allowing the brilliance of his smile to shine with full force.

“Infinitely.”

Bucky reached out and clapped him on the shoulder once more.

“G’night, Stevie.” He said with a grin.

“Night, Buck,” Steve replied, brushing Bucky’s hand with his own as it fell away, “We should catch up more later.”

Bucky nodded and watched as Steve backed towards the elevator. He watched for another moment, smiled once more, and then disappeared down the hall.

Now alone, the reality of what had just happened fully dawned on him.

The second the elevator arrived, Steve collapsed into it.

_Bucky._

God, what a wild twist of fate. What an absurd, impossible reality. 

He stumbled into his apartment and leaned heavily against the kitchen island.

His fingers still tingled from the warmth of Bucky’s skin and his scent lingered in Steve’s nose. The memory of his throat under Steve’s palm and the elegant glint of a blade spun before him.

He’d been attracted to Bucky when he’d still been “Barnes” and, if he was being honest with himself, even when he’d just been “the Soldier” but now, all together, Steve was confused, elated, shocked, exhausted, and a little bit hard.

Wow, Bucky had gotten so hot.

Another memory resurfaced, this time from the miserable summer Steve had stayed home. He remembered being angry and morose for weeks. He spent more than one evening with his face shoved in his pillow, furiously jerking off to fleeting memories of Bucky at his side.

Heat began to rise on Steve’s skin once again. God, he’d been half hard since Bucky had thrown his first knife at him.

This was ridiculous. He wasn’t a teenager anymore. He should _not_ be getting all hot and bothered at the thought of the impossible, complicated, beautiful man he used to know.

Steve was an adult. He could control himself.

He marched through his dark apartment and stripped before stepping into the cold spray of the shower. He washed the sweat and lingering scent of Bucky off his skin. As the water soothed his sore muscles Steve couldn’t help but smile at the wet tiles. 

If reuniting with Bucky was the only good thing to come out of his whole stint as an Avenger then it will have been worth it.

* * *

Steve anxiously paced across the small quinjet as Clint flew them across the Atlantic.

The pod was arriving today. By Bruce’s calculations, it would land in barely twenty minutes. Tony had managed to track its trajectory to an undeveloped area in France. Luckily, it was a few miles from any major cities but it was impossible to know how fast the aliens would move once they hit the ground.

The world had noticed the aliens coming too. Steve was eternally grateful that he wasn’t the one in charge of managing the panic that arose after that. As the leading authorities on all things extraterrestrial, the Avengers had been given the go ahead to take point on this encounter. It would be a lot easier if Thor was with them, but he still hadn’t shown up which meant it was just Steve, Natasha, Clint, Tony, Bruce, Sam, and Bucky. Bucky wasn’t an Avenger but after spotting a few more details on the alien ship that he recognized, he was now considered an invaluable advisor. 

Steve hadn’t spoken much to him since their revelation in the gym. He’d been too busy to sleep, let alone chat, and Bucky was equally occupied. His disdain for Hydra was palpable and his fears of the alien tech were quickly becoming Steve’s own so Steve forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He couldn’t be distracted with this much at stake.

Besides, at the rate they were traveling, they were barely going to make it to the landing site before the aliens did.

Frustrated and tense, Steve paced the jet like a caged animal as the minutes ticked by.

“Will you _stop_!” Tony finally snapped, waving a hand at Steve, “You’ve been pacing for two hours it’s driving me _crazy_.”

“Turn around if it bothers you.” Steve replied tersely, not breaking stride.

“I’m going to hit you with your own shield if you don’t _sit down.”_

“You couldn’t if you tried,” Steve muttered under his breath.

Tony took a breath to snap out another retort but Bruce intervened.

“We’re all on edge,” he said in a deliberately slow manner, “let's focus on our game plan instead of fighting with each other.”

“We don’t _have_ a game plan,” Steve groaned, scrubbing his hands down his face,“We’re going in blind!”

“We’re going to take it as it comes and assess the situation,” Bruce placated gently, “We’re the first line of defense, not the last.”

“But—“

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice cut him off.

Bucky had been sitting quietly off to the side, not fully welcome in the circle of Avengers. He reached into his tac vest and pulled out a king sized KitKat which was already half eaten. He broke the last two bars apart and held one out to him.

Steve huffed but walked over and took it before throwing himself into the seat next to Bucky with a huff.

He could feel curious eyes on him as he crunched on the candy bar.

“You always used to get snappy when you were hungry,” Bucky mused quietly.

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t.”

“You still do.”

“I don’t”

“You’re doing it right now.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Shut up.”

Bucky kicked him in the shin. Steve kicked him back and they fell silent.

If the eyes of the other Avengers had been curious before, now they were insistent. Natasha’s eyes flicked back and forth between them and even Clint poked his head around from the pilot’s seat to throw a baffled look at the two of them.

So, maybe Steve hadn’t told anyone about him and Bucky yet. He hadn’t known where to start and, besides, they had other things to worry about at the moment.

Bucky looked at Steve expectantly.

Well, there was no time for a lengthy explanation now.

Steve shoved the rest of the chocolate into his mouth.

“Bucky, Avengers. Avengers, Bucky,” he introduced with his mouth still full, “We were best friends when we were kids.”

“Wait, what?”

“The fuck kinda name is Bucky?”

“Steve, what the hell.”

“Best friends?” Bucky asked, a grin stretching across his face.

Steve felt his face start to heat up as his words caught up with him.

“Uh, I mean,” he said quickly, “um, yeah.”

The pleased look on Bucky’s face didn’t fade as he ducked his head.

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Sam asked, his mouth hanging open as he stared at the two of them.

“We didn’t realize until the other day,” Steve told him, “we lost touch years ago.”

“When did—“

Natasha’s question was cut off by the shrill beeping of an alarm. Clint turned back to his controls and grimaced.

“Landing sequence initiated.” He said tensely, “We’re just going to beat the pod there, but we won’t have much time to get a lay of the land.”

“Shit,” Tony immediately stood and his Iron Man armor began appearing out of nowhere around him.

Steve grabbed his shield off the rack on the side of the jet and Bucky threw a rifle over his shoulder. Natasha came up to Steve’s side, pretending to peer out the wide window above them.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” she muttered as the others continued running around and grabbing their stuff.

“Not intentionally,” Steve whispered back, “I’ll explain everything soon, I promise.”

“If we live through this,” Natasha remarked.

“If we live through this,” Steve agreed.

She punched his shoulder affectionately before strapping her Widow’s Bite bracers to her forearms.

Steve took a breath as the jet began to descend. He rolled his shoulders and pulled his helmet on, focusing in and preparing for the worst.

“Long way from Camp Lehigh, huh?” Bucky muttered at his side.

For the first time that day, Steve cracked a grin.

“I don’t know,” he mused, “that time we got stranded in the middle of the woods was pretty scary.”

“We were barely a mile out,” Bucky reminded him, a smile stretching across his face.

“Oh, is that why you tied your shirt around your head and declared yourself king of the raccoons?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have had to join the enemy if you hadn’t eaten all our rations.”

“I took stock of all six of the marshmallows and then I decided that I deserved all of them,” Steve replied haughtily.

“This is why the raccoons didn’t want you to be the leader.”

The jet hit the ground and the pistons hissed as the door opened onto the fields of France.

“I don’t even want me to be the leader,” Steve muttered as the light streamed in and he led the group off the jet.

Bucky’s metal hand gripped his shoulder and Steve bolstered himself.

The ground was soft and wet. Mud splashed up across Steve’s boots with each step between the yellowing stalks of stiff grass. For miles around there was nothing but field and in the distance Steve could see the lines of bushes and trees that delineated the disused farmland from its neighbors. He looked up at the grey sky. It was overcast but the cloud layer was thin enough that diffused sunlight still shone through. 

In the center of it all, was a rusty shed.

“Our scans showed no buildings in this area,” Tony said quickly, pulling out a Stark Pad and tapping on it furiously, “there shouldn’t be anything here.”

“I mean, it's barely a building,” Clint scoffed, “Three people could fit in there, max.”

“But if it didn’t show up on the scans it could be cloaked,” Nat replied urgently.

“It’s a _shed.”_

“It’s never that simple,” Bucky muttered, stepping forward.

As his foot hit the muddy earth, the ground shook with a heavy tremor.

“Brace!” Steve shouted.

Around them, the ground split. Mud and rocks slid around them as the ground caved in. He heard the whir of motors and jets and caught a glimpse of Sam and Tony flying up to avoid the fall but the rest of them slid forward as the ground sank. Steve whipped his shield off his back and tried to drive it into the sliding earth like a wedge but it ricochet off of solid metal. 

They weren’t standing in a muddy field, they were standing on a giant metal platform that had cracked open beneath them.

The second Steve hit solid ground he was back on his feet. Amidst the dirt and torn up grass he stood on the edges of a raised platform. With the dull light from above he could just see the scuttling of figures in the darkness beyond the hole they’d fallen through.

“Ah, the Avengers,” A voice called out to them from the shadows, “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes!”

Sarcasm dripped from every word. Steve turned and saw a small figure emerge from the crowd of Hydra agents.

“I’ve been waiting for you to join us—“

A gunshot rang out and the man crumpled to the ground.

Bucky didn’t lower his gun. He shifted his aim to the agent standing next to Hydra’s former commander and fired again. 

The rest of the Avengers didn’t need much more encouragement. Some eighty agents surrounded them but the moment the Hulk emerged from the rubble, roaring with fury and wielding fists that could crush solid steel, they scattered like rats. 

The seven of them tore through the underground facility in record time. In between punches and the glimmering projectile of his shield, Steve caught glimpses of tech. Alien objects littered the compound. Coils, beams, sharp tools, and glistening metal plates emblazoned with alien symbols were strewn across every surface. 

_“Barnes was right,”_ Natasha huffed through the coms as she fought her way through the last of the Hydra agents, _“This has been Hydra’s doing all along.”_

 _“Five minutes to landing,”_ Tony informed them from above where he was shooting beams from either palm, “ _From the looks of this set up, they were planning on receiving the object through the hole you guys fell through.”_

Steve’s shield returned to his hand and he scanned the cavernous room for any remaining agents.

“Any left?” He called out.

 _“Clear.”_ Came the unanimous reply.

Steve smiled as they finished their sweep. 

For all they argued, they were a good team.

“Looks like Hydra was planning on throwing us all in here,” Clint called from across the room gesturing to a crude looking holding cell, “Guess they failed step one.”

“This was definitely the guy in charge,” Natasha walked over to the commander Bucky had shot and turned him over to get a good look at his slack face.

“Helmut Zemo,” Bucky informed them from his perch on one of the desks, “a lieutenant under Pierce.”

Steve looked down at Zemo and saw an unimposing figure with a single wound in the center of his forehead. Feeling no sympathy, Steve left the body on the scuffed ground where it lay.

“What are we looking at in terms of alien tech,” he asked, scanning the strange objects once again.

“This is more than we’ve ever seen before,” Tony replied, landing nearby and beginning to shuffle through the objects and scanning them with his Iron Man mask, “there’s no way this volume of stuff just fell to Earth one day. They must have been receiving tech in small batches for the past few years and then they built this landing site specifically for the extraterrestrial pod.”

“What are the odds the aliens were only using Hydra as a means to get to Earth?” Sam posited, still hovering above them, “I doubt aliens care about our petty human squabbles.”

“That’s a fair point,” Steve agreed, “who knows what Hydra thought they would get out of this arrangement but we have to assume that the aliens won’t delineate one faction of humans from another.”

“No chance at all that they’re just a bunch of chill guys like Thor?” Clint asked with a sigh, wiping blood from his brow.

“If they’re smart enough to make a deal with Hydra they’re smart enough to know that Hydra is bad news.” Steve replied, “We have to assume they’re hostile.”

“Two minutes,” Tony informed them, “What’s our play, Cap?”

“Form a perimeter around Hydra’s landing site,” Steve said, “Tony and Sam, watch from outside, the rest of us will circle the platform at as far a distance as possible. Everyone be on guard. Stay sharp.”

He squeezed Natasha’s shoulder as he passed her and then gripped Bucky’s arm as he hopped off his perch. 

“You alright?” he whispered against the strands of Bucky’s long hair.

Bucky reached up and wiped dirt from Steve’s cheek with the soft pads of his fingertips.

“I’m fine,” he replied quietly, “Watch your back, okay?”

“I will.” Steve smiled and his heart fluttered when Bucky smiled back.

Steve took up his position in the Avengers’ radial formation, ignoring Natasha’s eyes on him as he stepped away from Bucky.

 _“One minute,”_ Tony muttered over the coms, _“We’ll have a visual in 3, 2, 1—“_

Steve looked up and through the thin clouds a black speck was quickly growing larger. 

“Get ready!” He shouted as debris began to fly around them. 

He lifted his shield as a strange mechanical roar shook the room. To his left, Clint ducked for cover behind a workstation as rocks, dirt, and loose machinery flung up into the air. The roaring grew impossibly loud and darkness fell as the pod blocked out the sun on its descent. Steve braced for impact but moments before the pod hit the ground, it froze as if suspended in mid air and the room fell silent and still.

Steve kept his position. He saw the tip of Clint’s arrow peek out from behind the workstation and across the room he could see an array of guns pointed at the object.

Up close it was a strange, ribbed object that was vaguely egg shaped and made of sleek, sharp metal. Each facet of its ridges was etched with a foreign language and three projecting prongs poked out from each side like sharp fins. It looked like it could hold maybe four people if they all crowded in but, if the aliens were vaguely humanoid, Steve suspected that no more than one would be inside.

Silently, they waited.

Seconds ticked by, then minutes, and nothing happened. The pod remained hovering just above the ground, completely silent and unnaturally still.

In his periphery, Steve could see the other Avengers starting to get restless. 

_“Stark,”_ Sam whispered above them, _“Your scanners got anything?”_

 _“Nothing,”_ Stark replied tensely, _“No heat signature, no heartbeats, no radiation of any kind. If it wasn’t hovering, I’d say it was just a weird looking rock.”_

 _“Cap, should we approach?”_ Clint asked softly.

“No,” he hissed into his com, “Stay back.”

No one argued, save an angry huff from Hulk— at least for the first ten minutes.

 _“Cap?”_ Nat whispered eventually, _“I know going up and poking that thing would be extremely stupid, but, uh, I think we should go up and poke it._ ”

 _“Smash.”_ Hulk agreed in a low grumble.

“Alright, alright,” Steve caved, tightening his grip on his shield, “I’ll go.”

 _“Wait, Steve,”_ Bucky whispered, _“let one of us go with you.”_

“No, everyone stay in position,” Steve ordered, “No point in all of us getting vaporized or whatever.”

_“Steve.”_

“It’ll be fine, Buck.” He could hear Bucky’s frustration in the following silence. “Just keep your eyes peeled.”

Steve approached the pod before anyone could issue any more objections. He stepped as quietly as he could over the remaining debris as the sound of cocking guns echoed in the silence around him. He kept his shield at the ready as the pod loomed in front of him.

Carefully, he reached out a hand and gently pressed his fingers against the hard surface. It was void of any temperature but he felt a very subtle thrum beneath his fingertips and it smelled of burning asphalt and rust. There was some sort of energy within but there was no change in the pod’s appearance as Steve let his fingers rest against it. Slowly, he began to move, letting his fingers trail across the ridged surface as he paced around the pod.

He did a full loop. Then another. He scanned the surface for the seams of a door or an exhaust port and found none. He looked underneath where the pod hovered a foot above the ground and saw nothing he could identify. After a thorough examination, Steve took a step back.

_“Nothing, Cap?”_

“Nothi—“

Steve looked down. The sharp fin of the pod stuck out of his shoulder.

The flashes of gunfire echoed around him as the metal pulled out of his body and he stumbled away, falling to his knees. The pod’s facets had all expanded in a split second, the sharp fins jutting out as the surface began to slide and unlace from each other. The previously interlocked planes of ridged metal were undoing themselves, folding around each other like origami, seemingly unaffected by the gunfire ricocheting off its surface. 

Someone grabbed Steve’s good arm and dragged him back. Steve managed to get his feet under him and Natasha hauled him behind an overturned table. 

“Stay down,” she ordered as she peeked over the table and aimed a gun with one hand and her Widow’s Bite with the other.

“Least I made something happen,” Steve muttered as he clutched his shoulder and peeked out.

 _“East side! Something’s coming out!”_ Sam shouted from above.

Steve pulled himself to his feet and got his shield out in front of him as he followed Nat to the other side of the pod. 

The rippling surface peeled back, revealing a cavity and something twisting in the dark interior.

A sharp, metallic screech filled the air as a creature with broad metal limbs clawed its way out of the pod. Its torso was thin and bony with pale translucent grey skin stretched thin between plates of dull metal that twisted into thick arms and a pair of heavy legs. Its small beady eyes scanned the room and then its wide toothy maw opened up and another shriek filled Steve’s ears.

Gunfire quickly drowned out the sound but the creature moved faster than even Steve could keep track of. It darted forward, then wove between the Avengers. It did a full loop of the room, scuttling and hissing as bullets glanced off its metal limbs. 

_“The limbs are bulletproof!”_ Clint yelled through the coms. 

_“Fucker’s too fast!”_ Bucky retorted, reloading his rifle. 

Hulk roared as he smashed into the wall, just missing the creature as it darted out from under him.

“Nat!” Steve shouted, sprinting after the creature, “Stun it! Tony, Sam, cover the exit!”

Steve leapt at the creature, managing to grab one of its legs as it darted off. It dragged Steve for a moment but he got his feet planted on the side of a broken workstation and managed to hold it still. A blue light shot past his face and the creature jolted as the electricity of the Widow's Bite shot through him. The mechanics around the body hissed and fizzled under Steve’s grip.

“Kill it!” He yelled.

Precisely aimed gunfire whizzed around him and pierced through the creature. It shrieked and sharp talons dug into Steve’s side. He tumbled backwards as the creature climbed on top of him. He slammed the ridge of his shield into the back of the creature's neck but it just dug its claws in deeper. Metal legs pinned him down as he kicked out, finally managing to knock the creature back.

Bucky dropped down from seemingly nowhere and shot the creature point blank in the spine. It reared back and slashed at him with its claws but it glinted off his metal arm harmlessly. Steve got back on his feet and tried to rip its leg off. He heard something snap as he twisted but it wasn’t enough.

Hulk barreled forward. Slowed by Natasha’s Bite and Steve holding its leg, the creature couldn’t dodge Hulks assault this time. Hulk slammed it into the wall, again and again, before finishing what Steve started and ripping off one of its legs. With one massive hand clutching the creature's head he smashed it into the ground, its metal claws scratching uselessly at Hulk’s thick skin.

With one last sickening crack, Hulk smashed the creature's head against the concrete and it fell still against the ground.

“Tony, scan it. Make sure it’s dead,” Steve ordered as he caught his breath, “Nat, Clint, check the pod for more.”

“Steve, you’re bleeding.”

Bucky holstered his guns and reached out for him.

“I’m fine,” Steve shrugged him off, limping slightly as he headed for the pod, “I want another full sweep of the compound and the surrounding area.”

Sam took off to check the area from above and Hulk shrunk back down into Banner to inspect the body with Tony. 

Steve stumbled a little on the uneven ground and glanced down at his soaked torso. The alien’s claws had gone straight through his kevlar and he felt the creaking of broken ribs as he breathed. The hole in his shoulder didn’t feel great either.

“Steve.” Bucky chided sharply, “Sit down before you give yourself a concussion.”

“It looks clear,” Natasha called over, “No movement from the pod.”

 _“Looks good from above.”_ Sam agreed.

“No more readings on the body,” Tony chimed in, “It’s dead, Jim.”

“Double check everything,” Steve ordered, “Then call in the clean up team and get all this junk sent back to the lab for analysis.”

“Already on it, Cap,” Clint replied as Bucky shoved Steve onto a semi-flat pile of rubble.

“See, the team’s got it,” Bucky insisted, “Now stop moving.”

“I’ll be fine,” Steve said again, even as he hunched over in pain, “I heal quick.”

“Stop talking, while you’re at it.”

“Bossy.”

“Stubborn.”

“Jerk.”

“Punk.”

“Cap, you might want to come look at this,” Clint called from the pod.

Grimacing, Steve held the wound in his side with one hand and pushed Bucky out of the way with the other.

“Whatcha got, Clint?”

Steve heard Bucky sigh as he stepped past him but he said nothing else.

He was fine, really. Steve kept himself focused as Clint showed him the glowing panel on the inside of the pod. Bucky was probably remembering that kid with asthma, a million allergies, and weak ankles but Steve could take a lot more than a couple scratches now. Things were different now.

He could take it.

* * *

Back in the States, things were calming down again. Pepper took care of the press, informing everyone that the alien had been dealt with and the culprits located. The Avengers declared that they would double down on Hydra in retaliation and keep an eye on the skies for any more pods. Tony and Bruce were hard at work, sorting through the tech Hydra had, the pod, and the body of the alien. 

It had been a hard fight. Without Hulk, Steve wasn’t sure how long they would have lasted. If more aliens came in bigger groups, they’d be overwhelmed unless they uncovered some sort of weakness from the alien’s physiology.

Speaking of physiology, Steve was on the mend. He had taken the brunt of the damage during the fight but was quickly recovering. By the next morning he was, in his opinion, perfectly fine, even if his chest hurt when he took deep breaths. 

He was lounging around his apartment watching shitty daytime TV on mute, as per Dr. Cho’s instructions, when there was a knock on his door.

 _“Captain Rogers,”_ Jarvis’ voice echoed through his living room, _“Sergeant Barnes is here to see you.”_

“Oh, let him in. Thanks, Jarvis.”

Steve quickly wiped the goldfish crumbs off his sweatpants and turned off the TV as the door opened. He stood and smiled as Bucky stepped in. He was dressed casually as well in some jeans and a henley with his long hair hanging around his face in soft waves.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted, leaning against the kitchen island as Bucky’s eyes flitted across the apartment.

“Hey,” he said, eyes finally landing on Steve again, “you doing okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve rolled his shoulders— only cringing a little— to prove it, “All healed up. Just taking it easy today.”

Bucky nodded, not matching Steve’s smile.

“No word from Stark or Banner?” He asked, walking past Steve and taking in his sparse living room.

“Not yet,” Steve said, watching Bucky examine the aesthetic knickknacks and empty shelves that lined the wall, “There’s a lot of stuff for them to sift though. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

Steve was starting to wonder if this was a social visit or a business one as Bucky’s fingers trailed across the back of the sofa towards the expensive modern lamp on the mostly empty side table.

“Nice place,” Bucky remarked with a slight tilt of his head, “You got your own place somewhere else?”

Steve blinked and looked around. Now that Bucky mentioned it, the space looked almost exactly like Bucky’s guest room. There were empty spaces on the walls and in the shelves that Steve supposed he should have filled with his own things by now but he just never had.

“No,” Steve replied awkwardly, “been living here nearly five years. Tony had the place decorated and I, um, never really got around to changing anything.”

“Hm.”

Bucky had thoughts, Steve could tell, but he said nothing else as he came around and sat down on the edge of the sofa.

“Do you still draw?” Bucky asked suddenly, peering up at Steve from between the long locks of his har.

“Um, a little,” Steve felt a blush rising on his cheeks, silently hoping Bucky wouldn’t ask to see any of his half finished sketches of, well, him, amongst other things.

“You wanted to be an artist, when we were little,” Bucky said, leaning back against the couch, “You said you were going to make movies like _Treasure Planet_ and _Lilo and Stitch.”_

“And you wanted to be an astronaut,” Steve replied with another smile, sitting down on the armchair next to the sofa, “You wanted to go to Mars.”

“Yeah,” Bucky looked down at his knees and was silent.

Steve felt like he was missing something. 

“Why do you ask?” He said when the silence had stretched for an uncomfortable moment.

“I was just wondering…” Bucky trailed off a moment before finding his words again, “I was just wondering if there’s anything you do for fun around here. You know, when you’re not saving the world and stuff.”

“Oh, well I do draw sometimes,” Steve said, relaxing a little, “or I work out, or spar with someone. We do movie nights and game nights when all the Avengers are around. Jarvis has a huge collection of books and movies if you’re bored. I go for walks sometimes, though you probably shouldn’t do that since Hydra’s still aiming to get you—”

“Do you like it?” Bucky asked, his blue eyes locked onto Steve’s as he leaned forward, “Fighting? Sparring?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you like it?” Bucky repeated, “Are you happy?”

Steve balked at the question.

“Happy?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean—“ Steve fumbled with his words, “I like helping people. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. I’m grateful that I have the opportunity to have an impact on the world—”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Well— I…” Steve’s jaw clenched as he tried to articulate something.

“Sorry,” Bucky leaned back again and shook his head, “sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

“No, I—“

“It was an unfair question.”

Steve wasn’t sure he agreed but he took the out. He didn’t think about his own happiness very much. It was easier not to.

“What do you do for fun?” Steve asked, steering the subject to something, anything, else.

“Well, when I’m not being brainwashed or hunted I read a lot,” Bucky replied lightly, “when I was in Romania I was, um, well I was getting back into studying.”

“Oh?” Steve asked, “Studying what?”

“Astrophysics,” he said shyly.

“Whoa,” Steve grinned, “I guess your astronaut dream isn’t too far off.”

“I don’t know about that,” Bucky said with a smile, “but I’ve always been interested in space so, when my life was a little more normal, I started taking some classes again at the university. Just for something to do.”

“That’s great, Buck.” Steve reached out and affectionately nudged Bucky’s shin with his foot.

“Yeah,” Bucky smiled behind the long strands of his hair, “It was nice to get back into something I really loved after so much of my life had been taken away from me. Doing something just because I liked doing it was strangely novel after… everything.”

He looked at Steve in a strangely deliberate manner. Not quite sure what the look was for, Steve nodded. He couldn’t imagine what Bucky had gone through.

After a moment of silence, Bucky looked away.

“Anyway,” Bucky said, taking a breath and smiling once again, “the reason I came by was because well, ever since we talked about Jaslowiczanka Bakery I have been craving their paczki.”

“Oh, man I could go for one of those right now,” Steve replied with a grin before frowning sympathetically, “though the odds of us getting our hands on any are slim.”

“Actually,” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, “have some dough rising in the kitchen downstairs. I was wondering if you wanted to come fry it up with me.”

Steve blinked in surprise.

“I’d love to help,” He said brightly, “You cook?”

“A bit,” Bucky replied modestly, “I used to be pretty good when I was in college, but I haven’t had the opportunity to practice recently. The dough should be about ready though if you want to come.”

“Sure, yeah!” Steve stood, ignoring the stiffness in his body, “just let me put on some real clothes and I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Okay,” Bucky smiled and headed back to the elevator, “See you in a min—”

Bucky paused, staring at the fridge. Steve followed his eyes to the pastel blue card Natasha had left for him weeks ago and instantly flushed red.

“Oh, Natasha sent me that,” he said quickly, “it was a joke.”

 _“Congratulations,”_ Bucky read blankly, _“it’s the Winter Soldier.”_

Steve cringed at Bucky’s inscrutable intonation.

“Sorry, um—“

Bucky’s snort caught him off guard and the light peal of laughter that followed eased a world of tension off of Steve’s shoulders.

“I was quite the prize, huh?” He said with an easy smile, “If there was a betting pool I expect to be compensated.”

Steve huffed out a relieved laugh.

“I didn’t hear about any bets but I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said.

Bucky hummed agreeably and headed for the elevator but before he stepped on, he turned and looked back at Steve with a strange expression.

“It’s kind of funny to think that if you had just turned up at my place and told me your name, I might have come willingly.”

Steve’s eyes widened and he did his best to swallow his guilt.

“If I’d known that was an option, that’s what I would have done.”

Bucky smiled sadly.

“I know.”

The elevator doors closed behind him.

Steve took a breath and scrubbed his hand through his hair. He had a lot to make up for. He couldn’t get Bucky his apartment back or eradicate Hydra for him, but he could at least try to make his afternoon a fun one. 

Steve hurried to his bedroom. His ribs ached but he was more than willing to put up with a bit of discomfort in exchange for getting a proper smile back on Bucky’s face. As he changed into some jeans and carefully slipped his t-shirt off over his bandaged shoulder, a spike of anxiety shot through him.

What if they didn’t click as well as they used to? What if there was a silence and Steve couldn’t think of anything to fill it? There were so many taboo topics between them— everything to do with the Winter Soldier, for starters, the fact that Bucky’s being hunted by Hydra, the attempted alien invasion, and now Steve’s happiness, apparently. 

He would just have to do his best. He wasn’t sure it would be enough but damn was he going to try.

Steve pulled some dark jeans and a nice green sweater before checking his hair in the mirror. He cringed a little when he saw that the sides were sticking out in a deeply unflattering way. Bucky had already seen him in his disheveled state, which was not ideal but Steve still took a minute to flatten his hair back down and push the front up into something mildly acceptable.

Whatever, it wasn’t like this was a date or anything.

Steve froze with his fingers still caught in a tangle at the front of his hair.

Was this a date? No. Couldn’t be. If Bucky wanted it to be a date he would have framed it that way. They were just hanging out. As friends. Steve put on a nice sweater and fixed his hair for a friend. Friends could look nice for each other. Friends could bake Polish pastries together in a totally platonic way even if they kissed once when they were kids. Obviously. 

Steve slowly finished fixing his hair and considered himself in the small mirror above his dresser as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows.

He needed to stop indulging these thoughts about Bucky. Whether Bucky liked him that way or not, it would only end in heartbreak. Steve was an Avenger, that had to come first. They were friends and that was all they could ever be.

Resolute, Steve gave himself a stern nod before shoving his feet into a pair of boots and heading out the door. 

When he arrived in the communal kitchen Bucky had just dropped a large ball of buttery, yeasty dough onto the countertop. There was a bag of flour next to him along with a rolling pin and a large container of raspberries. Alpine had snuck his way onto the counter and was eyeing the raspberries suspiciously.

 _“Nu cred că nu te văd, tâlharule,”_ (Don’t think I don’t see you, little thief) Bucky chided, nudging Alpine’s face away with his elbow without even turning to look, _“Nu sunt pentru tine.”_ (Those aren’t for you)

“Maybe he only speaks Spanish,” Steve suggested with a grin as he came up on Bucky’s other side, “He’s from Spain, after all.”

 _“¿Hablas español o eres solo un idiota?”_ (Do you speak Spanish or are you just an idiot?) Bucky asked Alpine, who continued trying to get around Bucky’s arm to the raspberries, “I think he chooses not to understand me.”

“Maybe he just loves crime,” Steve replied as Bucky scooped Alpine up and deposited him back on the floor. 

“He must be getting that from you.”

Steve snorted.

“I’ve left my days of crime behind me, Barnes,” he said with faux haughtiness, “I’m a reformed man.”

“Oh, so the time you jimmied the vending machine in the counselor’s office to spew all its snacks was the last time you did that?” Bucky asked as he started rolling out the dough.

“That wasn’t a crime,” Steve retorted righteously, “that was a public service.”

Bucky bit back a smile.

“Uh huh.”

“It was!”

“What about the time you filled Tanner’s shoes with shaving cream?”

“Again, not a crime,” Steve insisted, absentmindedly watching Bucky’s muscles flex as he manipulated the rolling pin, “besides, they were crocs and the way the cream squirted out of the holes when he put them on was hilarious, so you’re welcome.”

“How about when you deflated the other team’s dodgeballs?”

“Um, did you _not_ want to win?”

“So full of excuses,” he accused with snort and a wry grin, “You’re a troublemaker, Steve Rogers.”

“I prefer the term rascal, actually.”

“A bad influence.”

“A heroic vigilante.”

“A threat to society.”

“A man of the people.”

“Well, then make yourself useful,” Bucky poked him in the chest with the end of his rolling pin before handing him a wide glass cup, “Use this to cut out as many as you can.”

“Alright, alright,” Steve nudged Bucky out of the way with his hip, “but don’t think I don’t remember all the shit you used to pull.”

“Oh, like what?” Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand right before he pressed the cup into the dough to coat the rim in flour, “I was a regular boy scout.”

“You went through the whole camp’s supply of trail mix and ate all the M&M’s.”

“I shared them with you didn’t I?”

“Oh, look who’s got excuses now,” Steve laughed as he started cutting out rounds of dough, “You could talk your way out of any amount of trouble.”

“Good thing too, with all the messes you made,” Bucky agreed as he watched Steve work, “you woulda’ been sent home on the first day without me.”

“And you woulda been right there with me for the illegal fireworks hidden in your duffel bag.”

“Those things were barely even bottle rockets,” Bucky scoffed, “they went like ten feet and didn’t even explode.”

“Where did you even get those?” Steve asked as he handed over the little rounds of dough for Bucky to lay on a tray.

“I think my cousin left them in there,” Bucky said, smiling as he remembered something, “She’d used the bag before me to go on a post-graduation trip.”

“I can’t believe we didn’t get caught,” Steve shook his head as he cut out the last of the dough, “We didn’t even set ‘em off that far away from camp and they were _loud.”_

“I don’t think the counselors were all that invested in their jobs,” Bucky agreed, arranging the dough on its tray, “Let's roll the scraps into little balls and then we can let these rest.”

Steve rolled up the dough scraps while Bucky started heating a vat of oil over the stove.

“We gonna fill these with the raspberries?” He asked, nudging Alpine away from them with the end of the rolling pin so he wouldn’t get clawed again.

“Yeah, we’re gonna make jam,” Bucky said, removing Alpine from the counter for the second time, “You know you can probably pet him if you want. I don’t think he hates you anymore.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Steve said suspiciously as Alpine hopped back onto the floor and began rubbing himself against Bucky’s legs.

“Alpine is very friendly.”

Steve gave Bucky a look.

“Well, it’s not my fault you guys got off on the wrong foot.” Bucky rolled his eyes, “You’ll have to work it out with him.”

Steve looked down at Alpine.

 _“Să fim de acord să coexistăm pașnic într-o stare de neutralitate.”_ (Let’s agree to peacefully coexist in a state of neutrality.)

Alpine didn’t acknowledge him.

“He gets it,” Steve decided.

Bucky snorted and poured the raspberries into a pot at the stove.

“Come stir this while my cat ignores you.”

“We’re ignoring each other.”

“Sure.”

Steve pouted but began stirring the raspberries as they heated up.

“When did you learn to make this?” He asked as Bucky checked the temperature of the oil.

“About three hours ago.”

Steve barked out a laugh.

“Here I was thinkin’ this was some sentimental family recipe,” he chuckled.

“Well, the author of the recipe went on and on about how their ex used to make these incorrectly so clearly someone’s got strong feelings about it.”

“If these are bad the ex must have been right.”

“Definitely.”

Bucky poured a generous heap of sugar into the bubbling raspberry sauce.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Bucky asked casually over Steve’s shoulder.

Steve’s heart suddenly kicked into overdrive.

“Um, no,” Steve replied, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the pot in front of him, “my schedule isn’t really conducive to dating.”

“That’s fair,” Bucky replied neutrally, “Avenging happens at odd hours, huh?”

“Any time, any place,” Steve agreed, “What about you? Got someone waiting for you back in Romania?”

“No,” Bucky scoffed immediately, “I wouldn’t drag some poor unsuspecting sap into Hydra’s crosshairs.”

Steve nodded understandingly.

“Won’t be forever,” Steve reminded him softly.

An odd expression flitted across Bucky’s face. It was gone before Steve could place it and Bucky turned before Steve could say anything else.

“These are ready to fry,” he said lightly, staring down at the dough for a moment before bringing the tray over to the oil.

Bucky dropped three of the dough rounds into the oil with his metal hand before taking the jam from Steve and setting it off to cool. He set up a little wire rack as the cooling station and placed a plate of white sugar next to it for the coating.

Steve stood next to him and watched the bubbles dance around the dough as it fried, turning a delicious golden brown as Bucky turned them over with a skewer. He could tell Bucky was deep in thought but he didn’t want Bucky to be thinking about Hydra right now.

For a moment, Steve wasn’t sure what to say, then he remembered how they were at camp all those years ago and realized that maybe he didn’t have to say anything.

He nudged Bucky with his elbow and smiled brightly when he looked up at him. After a second Bucky smiled and nudged him back.

“Punk.”

“Jerk.”

Bucky chuckled softly and Steve’s heart fluttered.

“Hand me the strainer.”

Steve forced himself to look away and handed over the wire mesh spoon. Bucky began scooping the cooked paczki out and laying them on the wire rack.

They smelled divine. It was hard to go wrong with fried dough and sugar.

“I bet I can eat more of these than you,” Steve challenged brightly.

“Oh, you’re on.”

After that it was a race to get all the paczki cooked, coated, and filled so they could stuff themselves with as many as possible.

“This is gonna be just like the fateful s’mores eating competition of ’05,” Steve laughed as he squeezed his piping bag of jam into the side of a paczki.

“You gonna barf again?”

“You were making me laugh! What did you think was gonna happen?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky admitted, laughing at the memory, “You give me bad impulse control, Rogers.”

“Oh, sure. Blame the victim.”

“It was your idea!”

“The eating part, not the laughing part!”

Bucky grinned as he filled his own paczki with jam.

“You think we woulda’ learned from that experience or something,” he mused as they stacked all the finished paczki into a small mountain on the counter.

“I suppose, if we wanted to be adults about this, we could share it with the rest of the team instead of eating until we’re sick,” Steve suggested.

They looked at each other over the plate of donuts and promptly burst into laughter.

“First to ten wins!” Steve shouted, “3, 2, 1, Go!” 

* * *

The super soldier serum was good for a lot of things. It made Steve’s reflexes sharp, it heightened his senses, and it blessed him with fast healing. It did not, however, make his stomach bigger. If anything, he needed less food than an average man of his size because his body was able to process it much more efficiently than other people. Intellectually, Steve knew this. He’d known it long before he challenged Bucky to a donut eating competition. But he did it anyway. Because he’s stupid. So stupid.

“I’m so stupid.” Steve groaned.

His mouth tasted like a sugar factory and his lips were sticky with jam. Sure, the first two paczki had been amazing. Perfect, sweet, soft, still warm from the oil. The fifth one though? The sixth? Not so much. 

“You are,” Bucky grunted in agreement.

Bucky was slumped in his chair, his head resting on the back. Sugar littered the table like little snowflakes and four of the initial twenty paczki remained on the table between them.

“What’s the score?” Steve asked, hardly wanting to know the answer.

“Eight, eight.”

“Fuck.”

Steve stared at the remaining four paczki and tried to force his stomach to make space for two more. Honestly, he’d wanted to stop three paczki ago but he couldn’t lose a competition he’d initiated.

Steve reached for another.

“God, Steve, don’t.” Bucky lurched forward and tried to pull the plate away from him, “You’ll die.”

“Quitting is for losers,” Steve retorted and reached for them again.

“—swear it was so cool!”

Loud voices echoed from the elevator as Clint, Natasha, Sam, and Tony stepped out into the communal lounge.

“All lies,” Natasha refuted as Clint gesticulated wildly, “if you actually did that I’ll eat one of my knives.”

“What the hell are you two doing?” Sam asked as he took in the sight of the two super soldiers sitting across from each other at a sugar coated table in front of the disaster of a kitchen they had yet to clean.

“Oh, thank god,” Bucky groaned, “come eat these donuts before Steve and I explode.”

He held up the plate and the four Avengers quickly came to inspect them.

“No,” Steve lamented as the donuts disappeared off the plate, “my victory…”

“You’re a winner in my heart, Steve,” Bucky placated, “just not in reality.”

Steve kicked him under the table and rubbed his stuffed stomach with another groan.

“How many of these did you guys eat?” Tony asked through a mouthful of sugar, “Jesus, this is good.”

“Too many,” Bucky sighed, “I never want to see raspberry jam ever again.”

“Were you having an eating competition?” Natasha asked as she took in the mess on the table, “Are you guys five?”

Bucky pointed at Steve accusingly.

“He’s a menace.”

“You’re an enabler.”

“You picked the number we had to eat!”

“You agreed!”

“You started before I could object!”

“Excuses, excuses.”

“Were you guys like this as kids?” Clint asked as he finished off his paczki, “Cuz you both seem like a handful.”

“‘Scuse you, we were a delight,” Steve informed him.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, “We were angels. You can ask anybody.”

“Little Saints, that’s what they called us.”

“Definitely.”

“Absolutely.”

Natasha snorted as she ripped apart her paczki with her fingers.

“Your friendship is starting to make more sense to me,” she mused as she took a bite of donut.

“Well, we came down here to spar if you guys wanna join,” Sam told them, “though it doesn’t look like either of you are gonna be moving any time soon.”

“If you hit me right now I’ll barf,” Steve admitted.

“Same,” Bucky sank back down in his chair and patted his stomach.

“Oh, how the mighty super soldiers fall,” Tony crooned with a wide grin, “don’t hurt yourselves, boys!”

Bucky flipped him off as the four of them disappeared into the gym, leaving Steve and Bucky with their mess.

They sat in silence for a bit before Steve looked over at the kitchen.

“We should clean up.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, “God, I haven’t eaten this much sugar since I was in college.”

“If the serum doesn’t kick in within the next ten minutes I’m gonna deem it a failure of science.”

Bucky snorted.

“I’m not sure this was its intended purpose.”

“It’s called _super_ serum. How super can it be if I can’t even eat ten donuts in a row?”

They fell into silence once again as they both contemplated their terrible choices and, slowly but surely, Steve started to feel like he wouldn’t die if he stood up.

“Okay, I think I’m ready,” he said, stretching a little in his seat.

“Speak for yourself,” Bucky was still slumped over in his chair. 

“You sit,” Steve said, starting to brush the sugar scattered across the table into a pile, “You did most of the cooking anyway.”

Steve began clearing up while Alpine hopped up into Bucky’s lap. He wiped up sticky jam spots and began loading things into the dishwasher before getting to work on the utensils and big bowls in the sink.

After a few minutes, Bucky came up beside him and began wiping things down to put away.

“Thanks,” he said.

“No problem, Buck,” Steve replied with a grin, “Those paczki were really fucking good.”

Bucky ducked his head at the compliment.

“You know,” Steve said as he scrubbed, “Tony and Bruce are experts in astrophysics. I’m sure Jarvis can hook you up with some stuff if you want to keep studying while you’re here. Maybe when all this is over you guys can get to know each other better.”

“I’ve read a few of their papers,” Bucky replied, “It’s intense stuff. It felt awkward to bring it up considering everything.”

“Well now you’ve got me vouching for you,” Steve reasoned easily, “the guys will warm up to you, don’t worry.”

“Actually,” Bucky’s lips twitched into a smile, “Wilson asked me to meet up with him later.”

“Oh,” a pang of jealousy smacked Steve right in the solar plexus, “That’s great!”

“He’s been trying to learn Russian and apparently Romanoff isn’t the most encouraging teacher,” Bucky said as he reached up and tucked the curtain of his hair behind one ear, giving Steve an eyeful of a high cheekbone and a sharp jaw, “You could join us, if you wanted.”

“That’s okay,” Steve tried to cover his envy with casual disinterest, “I don’t want to intrude and besides, I already speak Russian.”

“Hm…” Bucky squinted and tipped his head to the side, “do you?”

“You got something to say, Barnes?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrows as he handed over the last clean bowl.

“Your vocabulary is there, sure,” Bucky conceded before shaking his head, “but that accent… woof.”

Steve guffawed incredulously while Bucky laughed.

“You come into my house,” Steve grumbled, half distracted by the way Bucky’s smile lit up his whole face.

“I’ll see myself out,” Bucky laughed before nudging Steve’s arm with his own, “seriously though, you should come with us. It’ll only be for a little while, and then maybe afterwards we could catch a movie or something, just us.”

Steve paused while wiping his hands dry. That sounded like a date.

Bucky’s warm fingers suddenly touched his arm. Steve looked up and saw gentle blue eyes peering at him above a soft smile.

Steve’s heart rate doubled as his mind reeled at a thousand miles an hour. 

Bucky was asking him on a date. 

If Steve said yes, they would go to Sam’s tonight. They would hang out. It would be fun. Steve would spend half the time looking at Bucky and maybe Bucky would catch him. Then they’d go back to Steve’s place. He’d put on a movie. Something funny and a little mindless. Bucky would sit next to him on the couch and by the time the movie was over they’d be pressed together, shoulder to shoulder. Bucky would put an arm around him and Steve would sink into it. Then, maybe, when the movie was over, Bucky would lean in for a kiss and Steve would let him. 

The thought sent butterflies through Steve’s stomach.

He wanted it. He wanted it so bad.

Steve dropped the towel onto the counter and took Bucky’s hand in his own. 

Bucky took an expectant breath just before the words came tumbling out of Steve’s mouth.

"I can’t.”

Bucky blinked.

“Sorry,” Steve whispered as Bucky’s hand slid away.

“Ah,” Bucky replied, “another time then.”

Bucky moved away from him a little and his hair came untucked from behind his ear, obscuring his face once again.

Steve could feel Bucky’s disappointment but it was better that he cut this off at the root instead of giving either of them time to hope. Steve had a duty to everything he stood for. He had to be ready for the next alien pod, for the next Hydra attack, for whatever abomination threatened the world next. 

So, he let Bucky slip away.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to resting,” Bucky said, clearing his throat and plastering on a smile, “I know donuts weren’t exactly on your recovery regiment.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to tell Dr. Cho about this,” Steve replied with a small fake laugh, “If I get any news about the alien stuff I’ll let you know.”

“Sure,” Bucky nodded, heading for the hallway that led to his room, “I’ll see you around, Steve.”

“Bye.”

Bucky vanished down the hallway and a moment later Steve heard the door shut behind him.

Steve stood in the silence of the empty kitchen.

If things had been different, if Steve had become that artist from his childhood daydreams and Bucky had come knocking on his door, he would have said yes in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t have even had to think about it. But in this reality, that just wasn’t the way things were. Bucky deserved someone who could commit to him. Someone who could go on Friday night dates and cook him breakfast on sleepy mornings. Steve couldn’t be that person. His responsibilities were too important. Like it or not, this was the life he’d been given and he had expectations he needed to live up to. It was the right thing to do and doing the right thing was everything to him. It was its own reward.

Even if it hurt.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Steve stared absently at his cold toast, still sleepy from a night spent tossing and turning, when an emergency alert went off on his phone. 

Steve was on his feet in seconds. He was halfway to his closet, reaching for his uniform, when he actually got a look at the information on the screen.

Thor had returned to Earth.

In a flurry, Steve threw on his stealth suit, just in case, and bolted into the elevator.

“Where is he?” Steve demanded as the doors closed.

_“Thor teleported into the courtyard. You are en route now, Captain.”_

“Thanks, Jarvis.”

_“Of course, Sir.”_

Moments later, the doors opened to the 40th floor of Avengers Tower where Tony had designed an open courtyard for them to enjoy some fresh air without having to go out in public. Today though, the usual smell of fresh flowers and grass was marred by the heady scent of something burning. Steve hurried out and saw the tell-tale scorch marks in the grass winding their way into a broad, intricate circle.

A booming laugh echoed across the courtyard and Steve’s eyes landed on the golden-haired Thor, hugging Bruce tightly around the waist while Sam rubbed his own bruised sides. His red cape fluttered in the morning breeze and his hammer gleamed in the sunlight.

“…so worried!” Thor was saying boisterously as he thumped Bruce on the back, “Relax, friend!Let us celebrate my return!”

“Thor, we’ve been trying to reach you for months—“ Bruce managed to get out before Thor interrupted him.

“Yes, I received your transmissions, not to worry. At the time I was in the midst of a great battle between Asgard and the great Fire-Demon, Sutur. It took some time to defeat my enemy but defeat him I did!” Thor laughed heartily once again, “Come, let us rejoice! Ah, Captain!”

“Thor,” Steve began, heaving a sigh of relief at the sight of him, “we—“

Steve was suddenly being squeezed by huge, thick arms.

“I am sure you also have many tales of triumph to share!” Thor slapped a hand down on his shoulder and Steve felt his knees buckle, “Tell me how your great foe, Hydra, has fallen since last we spoke.”

“Actually, we’ve had some trouble—“

“The Black Widow!” Thor was gone in an instant, striding with long steps toward Natasha as she stepped off the elevator, “How many more have fallen to your bite, great warrior?”

“More than I can count,” Natasha grinned as Thor threw his arms around her neck.

“You live up to your reputation!” Thor laughed, “Tell me, where are the others? Your archer and the metal man have yet to greet me!”

“They’re down in the workshop,” she said, leading Thor towards the elevator, “Come on, they’re waiting for us.”

“Thank god for Nat,” Sam muttered as the rest of them hurried to join them.

“She can handle anyone,” Steve agreed as the elevator opened once again.

“I am curious about Stark’s—“ Thor cut himself off as Bucky blinked at him from the elevator.

“Oh, hello,” Bucky said with wide eyes.

“Back!” Thor bellowed, raising his hammer which began to crackle with lightning, “The Winter Soldier has infiltrated the Tower!”

“No, no, no!” Steve bolted forward and threw himself in front of the stunned Bucky, pressing him back against the far wall of the elevator.

Bewildered, Thor paused with his hammer still raised.

“He is a great enemy of our group!” Thor blinked at the rest of them who all had their hands raised to stop him, “Is he not?”

“No, no,” Natasha gently reached out and put a hand on his broad arm until he lowered it.

“He’s cool, actually,” Sam added placatingly.

“I see.” Thor’s hammer stopped crackling, “This Soldier is a friend?”

“Yes,” Steve nodded vigorously, “Yes, Bucky is a friend.”

“Hello.” Bucky poked his head out from around Steve’s protective stance and waved.

“We’ll explain when we get to Stark’s workshop,” Natasha said, ushering the rest of them into the elevator, “You’ve missed quite a bit, Thor.”

“So, it seems.”

“But we’ve also won our share of battles,” Natasha continued as the doors closed and they began to descend in awkward silence, “only yesterday, I defeated a legendary enemy of Earth in a perilous race across the country.”

“Indeed,” Thor’s eyes brightened, “What was the name of this foe?”

“Bowser.”

“I shall spread word of his villainy across the Nine Realms,” Thor pledged seriously while Sam bit back a laugh.

“Oh, look. We’re here,” Bruce interrupted as the elevator opened again, “Tony!”

A dark haired figure jerked up from behind tall piles of alien scrap.

“Thor, my hero!” Tony called, arms outstretched, “Save us!”

“Hey, dude!” Clint called from his perch up in the beams above them.

“Stark! Barton!” Thor called back, his enthusiasm fading as he took in the piles of tech around him, “Have you raided a squadron of Chitauri?”

“A what?” 

“Thor,” Steve stepped in front of him to get his attention, “We found this stuff in the possession of Hydra. We believe they’ve been in contact with these aliens and invited them to Earth.”

Thor’s eyes widened.

“Foolish,” he chided, “The Chitauri will tear this world apart.”

“What are they?” Bruce asked, gesturing to the pod, resting at the far end of the workshop, “this pod arrived two days ago. We fought—“

Lightning burst from Thor’s outstretched hammer and it shot across the room. Steve tackled the person closest to him to the ground, shielding them with his body as Thor flew forward and began smashing the pod to pieces with his hammer.

“Ow.”

“Sorry, Sam,” Steve pulled them both back up as Thor stilled over the remains of the once functional pod.

“What the hell, Thor!” Tony shouted, “I was studying that!”

When Thor turned back around he was livid.

“This is a Chitauri scouting pod,” he said, breathing heavily and gesturing with his hammer, “the Chitauri are a race of parasites. They find thriving planets and eat their way through all that lives there. They lay eggs and suck the life from everything to feed their young and when the planet is dead, they seek their next target.”

Steve felt his blood run cold.

“This pod would have been scanning the planet for life since it landed,” Thor continued, “Even if the scout did not return to their Mothership, the Chitauri Command Center will already know that there is enough food here to sustain their species. This planet is marked. They are coming.”

Silence.

“How many?” Steve asked in a hushed whisper.

Thor’s brow creased pityingly.

“Tens of thousands, maybe more.”

“What can we do?” Natasha asked sharply, “How do we beat them?”

Thor shook his head.

“I have never had the misfortune of encountering these beasts in combat,” he said, “all I know are the tales of destruction they leave in their wake.”

“So, that’s it then?” Sam asked incredulously, “We’re doomed?”

There had to be a way out. There was always a way out.

Thor thought for a moment before a new look of determination came across his face.

“I will not leave Midgard to succumb to this fate,” he declared stoically, “Come. We must journey to my home and seek the counsel of Frigga, the Queen Mother of Asgard. She knows more of this scourge than I.”

“Wait what?”

“Asgard?”

“The Queen Mother?”

“My mother, yes,” Thor answered hurriedly, “We must go at once.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tony waved his hands, “We can’t all just fucking go to Asgard. Someone needs to stay here and keep an eye on things. We can’t just leave the goddamn planet!”

“I’ll stay,” Bruce said quickly, “Just thinking about it is… stressing me out.”

He was already looking a touch nervous.

“As much as I’d hate to miss this field trip,” Natasha added, “I’m a bit more comfortable keeping my ear to the ground. As long as you promise to take me there if we don’t all die, Thor.”

“You have my word,” Thor swore, “Should Midgard survive this peril, we shall celebrate in the halls of Asgard!”

“I’ll take you up on that too,” Clint agreed, “I'll stay with Nat and Bruce. Stark, you know the tech, you should go.”

“Sick,” Tony fist pumped and then pointed at Steve, “Cap, you got the best look at that thing.”

Leaving the planet now seemed risky. Steve weighed the situation in his head. He agreed with Natasha, he was most useful on the ground but as much as he wanted to stay, Tony was right. He got the best visual read on the alien so he grimaced and nodded before turning to the others.

“Sam, think you can do my job while I’m gone?”

Sam’s face split into a grin.

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure I can find some branch of government that you haven’t pissed off yet and give it my best shot.”

Steve snorted and clapped him on the shoulder before turning to Bucky who was waiting with a clenched jaw and a look of deep determination.

“Buck,” he began before Thor cut him off.

“You have not explained the Winter Soldier’s presence here,” Thor reminded them, his brow furrowing at Bucky from across the room.

“What do the Chitauri have in terms of mind control technology,” Bucky asked, ignoring Thor’s questioning stare.

“Mind control?” Thor asked, scrubbing at his short beard, “I believe these creatures function on a hive-mind. That is, they share thoughts and the mothership forces the individuals into compliance like drones.”

Bucky swallowed roughly and nodded.

“If the Chitauri had given this technology to Hydra, could they have used it on humans?” Bucky asked quietly.

Thor thought for a moment.

“Perhaps,” he said finally, “My mother would know more of such things. Why? Has this happened?”

Sam was the first to reach out and lay a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Let me come with you,” Bucky said, his eyes fixing on Steve’s, “I might have a score to settle with these guys as well as Hydra.”

Steve nodded. 

“Of course.” He kept his emotions in check as he turned to issue his orders, “Stark, Barnes, suit up. We’ll meet in the courtyard in fifteen minutes. The rest of you, stay sharp. Tell no one that we’re gone in case someone tries to take advantage of our absence. We’ll be quick and bring back whatever information we can.”

The group dispersed. Behind him, Steve heard Natasha begin to lay out fully what had happened since Thor last visited and he followed Bucky back into the elevator. When the doors closed Steve turned to him.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, trying to peer through the long tendrils of dark hair.

“Fine,” Bucky replied, mustering a small, joyless smile before dropping the pretense and clenching his jaw.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Steve said, “I’ve got your back.”

Bucky looked up at him through his hair. There was hesitation etched across his face and guilt clawed at Steve’s heart.

“We’re still…” Steve took a step closer and tired not to sound so desperate, “we’re still friends, right?”

A mixture of sadness and relief faded into a slightly more real smile as Bucky nodded.

“Yeah, Steve. We’re still friends.”

“Good.” Steve gently touched Bucky’s arm, “And hey, guess what?”

“What?” Bucky raised his eyebrows at Steve’s grin.

“You’re about to go to space, Mr. Astronaut.”

Bucky’s face split into a proper smile and for a moment he was a giddy kid again.

“Space!” He gushed, “I know this isn’t exactly a leisure visit but _still.”_

Steve laughed and watched Bucky step off the elevator as they reached his floor.

“See you in a minute,” Bucky called as he ran off to get into his gear.

Steve waved back and sank back against the railing with a sigh as the elevator took him up to the courtyard.

As he stood alone in the silence he knew, for sure, that he had made the right call turning Bucky down. According to Thor, an alien invasion was imminent. If Steve had been stuck trying to juggle that along with a budding relationship with Bucky, one or the other would have crashed and burned under a lack of attention and he couldn’t let himself be torn between his personal desires and his duty. He’d made the right call, and thankfully, he did it while managing to keep Bucky’s friendship. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

Ten minutes later, Steve was joined in the courtyard by Tony, with a backpack full of scanners, tools, and tech that was just as alien to Steve as the actual alien they’d fought two days ago. Steve watched him fiddle with his toys until Bucky and Thor appeared as well.

Bucky had changed into some standard black tactical gear and had thrown a rifle over his shoulder. Steve could see a few knives poking out of various holsters and a smoke bomb strapped to the small of his back. It wasn’t likely to be a dangerous trip to Thor’s home planet but Steve adjusted his shield harness and hoped the Asgardians wouldn’t take offense to their coming prepared for anything.

“Have you traveled through the Bifrost before?” Thor asked Bucky as they stepped into the still smoldering ring Thor had arrived in.

Despite the rocky start, Thor seemed to have taken Natasha’s explanation of the situation in stride and was now leading Bucky across the courtyard with a hand on his shoulder.

“Uh, can’t say I have,” Bucky replied with a confused shrug.

“It is most invigorating,” Thor told them, stepping into the center of the circle and motioning for them all to join him.

“By invigorating, do you mean deadly?” Tony asked skeptically as he stepped up beside Thor.

“Not to worry, Stark,” Thor replied with an easy smile, “Humans have traveled this path before and have not come to any harm.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” Tony hoisted his backpack up, “good to know.”

“Ready?” Thor asked, taking count of the three of them.

Tony gave him a thumbs up. Bucky nodded once, his anticipation palpable.

“Ready.” Steve nodded, trying to remember the details of what the Bifrost was from the talk Thor had given at an Avengers meeting over two years ago.

Before he could think too hard, Thor lifted his hammer and for a split second Steve felt weightless. Then he was rocketing forward faster than the speed of light. Around him, thousands of colors flew past. He caught glimpses of strange worlds. Orange foliage, red rivers, green skies. It flew by too quickly for him to keep track of it all. A metal hand clamped down on his wrist. Steve caught onto it and felt anchored even as he shot through space at an impossible speed.

As quickly as it started, it stopped. Steve stumbled on his feet and Bucky caught him on equally unsteady footing before, together, they found their balance again.

“Holy shit,” Bucky breathed dizzily.

“I think I’m gonna barf,” Tony groaned from Thor’s side.

“Welcome to Himinbjorg,” a low, powerful voice greeted them.

Looking up, Steve saw a tall figure bathed in golden light. His sleek horned helmet arched high above his head and his shoulders were broadened by wide golden armor. In his hands rested a long two-handed sword and piercing golden eyes smiled down at them from a dark, handsome face.

Still a little off kilter, Steve blinked up at the glowing man.

“Hello,” he said dumbly.

“Asgard welcomes you, Steven, son of Sarah.” The man replied with a nod.

“Heimdall,” Thor called up to the man, “Where is my mother? These Midgardians are in urgent need of her wisdom.”

“Queen Frigga awaits your arrival in the Halls of Valor,” Heimdall informed them, “Go quickly. Time is of the essence.”

“Come,” Thor steered them all towards an ovular opening from the strange domed room they stood in, “we must cross the bridge into Asgard.”

“Thank you, Mr. Heimdall,” Tony called up to the armored man as the three of them dizzily stumbled after Thor.

Heimdall nodded at them sagely.

“This is so fucking cool.” Bucky replied in a loud whisper, as he looked at Heimdall walking backwards to keep pace with the rest of them, “Is he a god too?”

“Unclear,” Tony replied, peering over the edge of the bridge, “Cool, cool, they’ve still got oceans in space.”

Steve glanced behind them and saw an infinite stretch of nothing.

“Uh, Thor?” He called ahead, “Where’s the rest of the planet?”

Thor, who’s powerful stride had taken him far ahead already, turned back.

“Asgard is not a spherical planet like Earth,” he said as he waited for them to catch up, “Asgard is flat.”

“Oh my god,” Tony laughed loudly, “you’re shitting me.”

“I am not,” Thor replied, leading them on.

“This is just like Lord of the Rings,” Bucky said with a grin as they continued down the faintly glowing Rainbow Bridge, “Middle Earth is flat for elves and round for everyone else.”

“Whoa, nerd alert!” Tony declared delightedly, “Finally someone who speaks my language. You know, Tolkien pulled a lot from Norse mythology and we know that Norse mythology exists because Asgardians came to Earth in ye olden days so, technically, Lord of the Rings is a space opera.”

“It’s all coming together,” Bucky agreed with a laugh.

Up ahead, Steve could see the glimmering spires of a city. The bridge seemed to lead into the heart of a sleek ascending castle whose sides cascaded down in tiers surrounding a central peak. Around it was a shining cityscape of glimmering roofs and tall skyscrapers above the still waters of the ocean and the green of soft foliage.

“It’s beautiful,” Steve remarked.

He could feel his mind committing each detail to memory and knew that when he got home his sketchbook would quickly fill with images of this alien world.

“Isn’t it.” Thor agreed, his smile evident in his voice, “You should see it when it is prepared for a festival. The city comes alive with color and all our people’s voices lift as one in song and joy from dusk till dawn.”

Steve smiled.

It felt trivial to admire the alien world around him while so much was at stake on Earth, but he couldn’t help it. Steve’s mind was made to seek out beauty over violence and the shining skies of Asgard made him yearn for a few hours of freedom where he could sit and lay it out on canvas.

Maybe if they won this fight, he could come back and take his time here. If there wasn’t another catastrophe waiting for him on the other side of this one, and another after that, and another after that.

Steve let his wistful dream fade as they walked and a breeze off the sea sent Bucky’s soft hair fluttering across his face. 

Steve needed to stop wanting things he couldn’t have. He should know that by now.

Behind him he heard the shutter of a camera go off.

“Tourists,” Bucky muttered into Steve’s ear as Tony snapped another photo.

Steve snorted.

“It’s called _research_ , Barnes!” Tony shouted after them, “I’m doing this for _science!”_

Thor led them to the end of the bridge where the path opened up into a wide marble courtyard where people, all dressed in long cool toned robes were going about their days. Children laughed and chased each other down the street, there was a small market where people haggled over prices, and rows of armored soldiers watched over the people with smiles on their faces.

It was odd to see people who looked human with styles of dress from Earth’s ancient history surrounded by technology so advanced that Steve could only conceive of it as magic. He wondered how their party looked to the Asgardians. Most of the adults paid them no mind, but some of the children ogled as the four of them strode by. They must seem so primitive in the eyes of godlike beings. Steve tried to avoid attention in Thor’s shadow but beside him, Bucky was having the time of his life.

“What's that?” He asked, tapping Thor’s armored shoulder.

“That’s a vhasel, it’s a kind of fruit.”

“What’s that?”

“That’s a schoolhouse.”

“Who are they?”

“Those are the Valkyrie, an elite group of warriors."

“Are— are those wings?”

“The Pegasi are the steeds of the Valkyrie, yes.”

“God, can I live here?”

Thor let out a booming laugh.

“You may stay as long as you wish, friend,” Thor said jovially, “Though we have pressing matters to attend to at present.”

“Right, right,” Bucky turned and grinned at Steve who couldn’t help but grin back.

Despite the seriousness of their journey, it was hard not to give in to that sweet smile. Bucky had tucked his hair back behind his ears to get an unobscured look at the alien planet and his face looked so soft and open. There was no Hydra presence hunting him here, no enemies lurking around corners, just the sweet scent of strange flowers and the distant sound of music. If Bucky really wanted to stay here forever, Steve wouldn’t blame him.

Soon, they left the civilians of Asgard behind and the rows of soldiers grew dense, parting for Thor without question. They walked down wide streets and over another, smaller bridge to the base of the castle where four guards, standing at attention wordlessly opened the front gates for their king.

Tony whistled slowly as they stepped into the grand chamber.

Pillars ascended on either side and wide frescos covered the tall vaulted ceilings above them. At the far end, sat a great golden throne atop a pedestal of wide steps decorated with runic carvings.

Intellectually, Steve knew that Thor was a king. He’d told them so long ago, but seeing his kingdom was something else entirely. It had all seemed so abstract before. This strange alien man and the fantastical land he claimed to be from. Only now was Steve truly beginning to grasp the weight that rested on Thor’s shoulders.

“I take it that’s your seat,” Steve mused, staring up at the throne.

“Indeed,” Thor confirmed, “and my father’s before me.”

Steve glanced back at Tony who just shook his head in awe, and then at Bucky whose mouth was hanging open.

They followed Thor, more intimidated by him now than they had been ten minutes ago, down a side hallway out of the throne room. They passed open courtyards of beautiful flowers and fountains. Attendants and officials in beautiful silks and armored breastplates stepped aside as they passed, lowering their heads as Thor made his way through. Eventually, they reached a set of double doors and the two guards on either side stepped forward and pulled them open, revealing a library.

The shelves rose high above them and the walls were decorated with ancient weapons and armaments. Tapestries depicting moments from Asgard’s history hung beneath them and statues of kings and queens of old stood solemnly between the pillars staring down at them. Between the shelves and statues lay groups of soft couches and desks for study and research. A few Asgardians were moving around, pulling down books and scrolls, reading on the couches or examining ancient artifacts.

Thor led them deep inside the quiet library until they came to a wide alcove. Three women sat at the mouth of the chamber and stood to greet them as they approached.

“The Queen is expecting you,” the tallest of the three said, gesturing for them to follow.

With a sweep of her long green dress she led the way past benches and sofas to a study chamber framed with marble busts, stacks of parchment and old tomes, and jars of unidentifiable herbs and plants.

Standing amidst it all was a grand woman. Her wavy yellow hair was piled up on her head and hung down her back to her waist over a pale silk dress and golden armor. She looked up and her bright eyes shone like deep pools of memory.

“Mother,” Thor greeted, stepping forward.

Queen Frigga smiled at her son and welcomed him with open arms and a kiss on the forehead.

“You’ve brought guests,” she said, turning to the rest of them.

Steve stepped forward and gave her a little bow.

“Captain Steve Rogers,” he said, “It’s an honor, Ma’am.”

The Queen smiled politely at him.

“Captain,” she bowed back, “My son has told me of your triumphs. You are most welcome in my home.”

“Tony Stark,” Tony said with a cocky grin, “Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.”

The Queen raised an eyebrow, her eyes flicking across the man in front of her.

“Tony Stark,” She nodded, “I shall have to test your brilliance myself to verify your declaration’s truth.”

“By all means,” Tony replied cheekily.

“And you are?” Frigga turned to Bucky.

“James Barnes, Ma’am,” Bucky bowed politely, “I’ve got no titles or declarations but I’m happy to be here.”

The Queen’s returning smile was the most genuine Steve had seen yet.

“Your humility hides great virtue.”

“Oh, I don’t think—“

“That was a fact, my dear,” the Queen interrupted, “not an opinion.”

Stunned to silence, Bucky didn’t reply as Frigga stepped behind her desk and peered across it at all of them.

“You are here with dark tidings,” she supposed.

“Indeed, Mother,” Thor stepped up, “Midgard has been marked by a Chitauri scout.”

“Ah,” her brow furrowed, “this is grave indeed.”

“Can you tell us about these creatures?” Steve asked, “We know next to nothing about them.”

The Queen sat down behind her desk and motioned for them to sit on the bench across from her as she steepled her fingers and thought for a moment.

Steve and Tony both sat while Thor stood at his mother’s side and Bucky remained standing just behind Steve.

“The Chitauri were once beasts like any other,” Frigga began, “They fought for survival on their home world and through the boons of evolution and the cleverness of their growing minds they excelled. They learned to use tools and build structures as we did, but along with it came a linking of minds. Greatness can be achieved through unity, this is no mystery to any who wishes to command great armies or nations.”

She gestured at Steve who nodded in understanding.

“This became their strength.” She continued, “They function in a hive-mind. There are no individuals in the Chitauri: they are all one and the same. Coated across their barbed tongues is a pale venom containing chemicals that infect the brain. They lick this substance across their young to bring them into the hive-mind after they hatch.”

She reached behind her and pulled a drawer from the tall shelf. She ran her fingertips across the corked tops of three dozen glass bottles before pulling one and holding it up. A semi-translucent yellowish liquid coated the inside of the glass.

“Exposure to small amounts of venom directly from the source will grant any subject glimpses into the Chitauri’s hive-mind.” She said, placing the vial on her desk, “It can be useful in attempting to divine their plans but it can come at a cost, for if too much venom enters the bloodstream, the subject will fall to the hive-mind. They will no longer be capable of producing any thoughts of their own and will become one of them.”

“However, the venom is adaptable. If the venom is purified, it can be infused with the thoughts of any intelligent creature, forcing whomever falls victim to its power to be bound to that creature's will. In this form, the venom is less potent. The subject’s autonomy will fluctuate as the unstable bond fades and, if the subject’s mind hasn’t been destroyed by the venom’s corrosive qualities, it should return to normal once the venom has been completely flushed from the body.”

Bucky took in a sharp breath and stumbled back a few steps. He turned to face one of the broad pillars and began to breathe in a deliberately consistent manner.

“Bucky,” Steve whispered, hurrying to join him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Bucky gasped out a shuddering breath and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Steve, who had long since believed Bucky’s story, felt his heart break at the irrefutable evidence in front of him.

“You are acquainted with this venom,” the Queen’s tone turned soft and she put the vial away, “Few deserve this fate. I am sorry.”

Still facing away, Bucky shook his head. His hand squeezed Steve’s.

“Jesus,” Tony muttered, scrubbing his hand with his face, “Somehow, these aliens made contact with the literal _worst_ people on planet Earth and gave them a bunch of venom to use on innocent people in exchange for what? A chance to decimate the entire planet?"

“With the resources available on Midgard, they could birth a whole new generation of Chitauri,” the Queen confirmed, “any of the Nine Realms would be a valuable target and Midgard is certainly the weakest link.”

Tony sighed.

“We didn’t even notice them sending this stuff to Earth,” he muttered to himself.

“Such deliveries would have been small,” the Queen replied gently, “They may have appeared as nothing more than the usual meteor. Do not assign yourself blame in this, Tony Stark. The Chitauri have led their conquest across the universe for longer than even I have lived. They have had centuries to hone their craft and are rightfully feared even in our own midst.”

“Is there anything else they do?” Tony asked, an edge of desperation creeping into his voice, “Anything that we use against them? Any weaknesses we could exploit?”

“Besides searching for food and stable ground to lay their eggs, the Chitauri search for self-improvement.” The Queen mused, deep in thought, “The reason they are such a dangerous foe is because they have taken evolution into their own hands. If they find a species with some ability they do not possess, their Queen, the mother of all Chitauri, can fuse herself with the species to take on their qualities. This is how they can thrive on so many worlds— molten rock, vast oceans, acidic rainfall— they can breathe almost any atmosphere and their cybernetic technology allows them to scale any landscape. If they find that Midgardians have some ability they do not, this may buy you more time as they prepare to bring their Queen instead of just their infantry.”

“But what do we _do?”_ Steve demanded, searching for some hope while Bucky continued to count his breaths, “How do we kill them?”

The Queen sighed. The silence that stretched did not inspire confidence.

After a moment, she stood.

“Come,” she said, “Perhaps the strings of fate have some wisdom to offer.”

“What?” Tony asked as she strode past him.

Bucky swallowed and gave Steve a tense smile.

“I’m okay,” he whispered as the others began to leave the chamber, “It’s actually kind of a relief to know that it wasn’t all in my head. There’s proof now. I wasn’t just too weak to resist Hydra’s torture.”

“Bucky,” Steve shook his head, “You’re the strongest person I know.”

Bucky scoffed but Steve didn’t back down.

“It’s true.” He added, “You didn’t just survive, you broke free. You got yourself out. I wish I had been there to help you but you made it here on your own and you’re still fighting.”

“Alright, alright,” there was a blush on Bucky’s cheeks as he dismissed Steve’s praise, “Come on. We’re going to get left behind.”

He shoved Steve towards the exit but stayed at his side as they followed the Queen out of her study.

“I was raised by witches,” Frigga explained as she led them down the steps, “Their magic is vast and, while there are some who dedicate themselves to the study of time and its progression, I believe I could catch us a glimpse of what is to come.”

“Ah, the art of prophecy,” Thor mused as small gatherings of scholars bowed out of their way, “They are tricky things.”

“Indeed,” The Queen agreed, “The fates meddle in wordplay and mischief. All may not be as told but, should they predict a favorable end to this battle, it may help put your minds at rest.”

“It better,” Tony grumbled, “if you tell me the Earth explodes or something I’m gonna be pissed.”

The Queen led them up a stone spiral staircase and down several more corridors. Through each window Steve glimpsed the stretching glory of Asgard and the shining bridge that stretched across the surrounding ocean.

“Welcome,” Frigga announced, stepping through an archway to a wide circular room, “to the Pools of Cosmos.”

The circumference of the room was flanked by a dozen identical archways, each blocked with dark velvet curtains. A scarce smattering of torches sent light flickering across the vast room and it caught on the reflective surface of nine great pools. Raised above the ground to uneven levels, the pools were framed with smooth stone walls and within, the surface of the water flowed with a sourceless current.

Frigga stepped down the steps and led them to a pool at the far side of the chamber. Circling around it with her fingertips dragging across the edge of the stone, the Queen muttered something and the dark surface of the water shimmered. Thor gestured for the three humans to step up to the pool while he hung back by one of the archways, watching with an encouraging expression.

Steve stepped up first, with Tony and Bucky on either side and glanced down into the pool.

What he had mistaken for water was something entirely different. Gazing down he could see swirling galaxies and distant stars sparkling within the void. Swirling and rippling, the surface shimmered not with the rippling of water but the movement of everything from the smallest atom to the mightiest solar winds and the unyielding pull of gravity.

“Fuck,” Tony muttered, enraptured by the sight before him.

“I will ask the fates about the coming attack on Midgard,” the Queen told them from across the pool, “and I will search for any clues that may assist your triumph. Then the fates will speak through me and deliver you your answer.”

“Thank you, Queen Frigga,” Steve replied, not quite sure what was about to happen but trusting that she knew what she was talking about, “we would appreciate that very much.”

Haloed by the light of the torches, Frigga raised her arms. Her long blue sleeves fell back as she tipped her head up and began speaking in a language Steve didn’t understand. Soft and melodic, her voice filled the chamber and as she spoke and the surface of the pool began to tremor. Bucky tensed at Steve’s side as the stars and galaxies began to spin at a dizzying pace, faster and faster as they rocketed past planets and stars until the pool was filled with the image of a familiar blue and green planet.

 _“There will come a day when the Stars bleed and the cold breath of Darkness falls heavy on the planet Earth,”_ Frigga whispered intently. 

Her voice was different, low and mellifluous, while her eyes stared into the pool with rapt attention and light gleamed around her. 

In the pool, darkness spread across the Earth like a virus.

“ _When the Eternal Night comes and the Stones of Victory weep tears of blood, a Hero will emerge from amongst them. Forged from Innocence and Blessed with Strength, the Soldier with Starlight in his heart will raise a Shield of hope against the coming Storm.”_

A familiar circular shield cut through the darkness and a metallic, alien, screech echoed through the chamber.

 _“In the shadow of Heroes he will slay the Darkness with an Unyielding Resolve,”_ Frigga whispered, her arms lowering.

_“He is the Avenger: Protector of the Earth.”_

The room fell silent and Steve’s heart sank. The images in the pool vanished, returning to its previous view of the vast universe, shifting gently around them and Steve felt four sets of eyes land on him.

“I guess this one’s on you, Cap,” Tony said, looking at him expectantly.

“Indeed,” Thor said, stepping forward, “I can think of no others who fit such a description.”

Steve nodded silently and straightened his spine against the weight on his shoulders that had suddenly doubled in size.

“I won’t let you guys down.” He promised, hardly registering the words coming out of his mouth as he clenched and unclenched his fists, “Whatever it takes.”

“I do not doubt you,” Thor clapped a large hand on his shoulder, “The Earth is in your hands, Steve Rogers.”

“We got your back, Cap,” Tony agreed, “We’ll get you whatever you need.”

“Fate is a funny thing,” Frigga’s voice had returned to normal and she came to stand with them with a peculiar smile on her face, “but should you rise to meet your foe with a true heart, I believe you will succeed.”

“It shall be a grand tale to tell.” Thor boomed with a beaming smile, “It shall be an honor to take part in this triumph!”

“Well, let’s actually do it first,” Tony reminded him.

“Thank you, Queen Frigga,” Steve said, functioning on autopilot now as he gave the Queen another bow, “Your wisdom has been invaluable.”

“You and your people are welcome to seek Asgard’s knowledge and skill whenever you might need it,” Frigga replied, “We are happy to share what we have.”

“As are we,” Steve replied politely, “Not that your world seems to be in need of much, but we would be glad to return this favor.”

The Queen smiled at him and ushered them along.

“Return to Midgard,” she urged, “There is much you have yet to do.”

The journey out of the palace passed Steve in a blur. Somehow, he put one foot in front of the other as he followed Thor and the others back through the city to the bridge.

His mind felt like a brick of thick fog as Tony and Thor chatted around him, their words not quite reaching his ears. A hand hovered near his lower back, guiding him forward but he didn’t really feel it. Steve absently registered the sentinel, Heimdall, bidding them farewell before rocketing through space and stumbling back into the courtyard of the Tower in New York.

It was evening now. The lights of Manhattan were just beginning to sparkle as the sun set. As Tony and Thor hurried off to inform the others of what they’d learned, Steve sat down on one of the benches overlooking the well manicured courtyard and stared down at the burning rings of Asgardian symbols etched into the grass.

Finally still and in the familiar city of his youth, everything that had just happened began to catch up with him.

It really was all on Steve. All his responsibilities and duties up until now had been nothing compared to what was coming. Everything he’d learned, everything he’d done, all his skills and talents were about to be put to the test. He was the Earth’s defense— it's only defense, if the fates were to be believed. He was all that stood between humanity and extinction. 

If he failed, there would be no one to blame but him.

Bucky sat down next to him.

Steve blinked out of his daze.

“Oh, hey Buck,” he said automatically, “I didn’t see you there. Are you doing okay?”

Through long hair, he saw Bucky’s jaw clench.

“This isn’t fair.” Bucky spat.

“What do you mean?”

“Why does it have to be you?” Bucky asked, throwing his hands up and turning to face Steve properly, “Why, out of everyone on this planet, does it have to be you?”

Steve’s brow furrowed.

“I’m not sure what yo—“

“You already done so much,” Bucky continued, his voice rising, “You’ve spent years trying to help the world. Can’t you catch a break? God, Steve. Don’t you want to rest?”

“Rest?” Steve recoiled, “Bucky, I have a responsibility—“

“Why?” Bucky demanded, “Because of the fucking serum?”

“I— Yes! The serum was a gift. I have to use my power to—“

“Was it?” Bucky asked angrily, “Do I have a responsibility too?”

“What? No! Bucky, the serum was forced on you without your consent.”

“Did you consent?”

“Yes!”

“You told me you had no idea what the serum would do to you,” Bucky countered, “so how could you have consented to this?”

He waved his hands in an all-encompassing gesture.

“You never asked to be a superhero.” He said sternly, “You didn’t build your own suit like Tony or train for years like Clint. You never asked for strength or power or any of this!”

“No, but I have it.” Steve snapped adamantly, “I have it and I have a responsibility to use it to better the world.”

“For how long?” Bucky asked desperately, “For the rest of your life? Until you die in battle? Steve, the point of having a team is to share your burdens. In every fight we’ve been in you pile all the risk on yourself— don’t even _try_ to argue with me on that— and now I’m supposed to just let you fight off what? An army of thousands of mind controlling aliens feared across the universe by yourself? Are you serious? This can’t be another burden you try to carry on your own.”

“But I have to!” Steve stood and turned on Bucky angrily, “You heard what Frigga said. She singled me out. Me. I’m not going to turn my back on the world because I want to take a break! What would I do, anyway? Sit around, wasting the power I’ve been given to paint stupid pictures?”

“To live your life!” Bucky shouted, rising to match Steve in anger, “To live the life that was taken from you!”

“My life was nothing before the serum,” Steve snapped, “I was a weak, sick, nobody and I would have been dead by twenty.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Bucky looked more offended than Steve had ever seen him, “You have never been nothing. You were full of life and fire and joy and you meant everything to me.”

Bucky flinched at his own admission.

“I just want you to be happy, Steve,” he said, a look of pity came over his face, “I don’t know you as well as I used to but you’re definitely not happy. Not here, not in your perfect, expensive, boring apartment, and definitely not when you’re fighting. If I’m allowed to move on after everything that I’ve done and after everything that was done to me, then so are you. You didn’t ask for this and you don’t owe the world your life.”

Steve looked at his friend and scowled.

“You don’t understand. I don’t blame you for wanting to get out of this world. You deserve to go home and I hope you find happiness, I really do, but nothing was taken from me. I was _given_ this and I am grateful for it. I’ve been blessed with this power and if I don’t step up and use it no one else will. I’m the only one who has what I have. I _need_ to be here or the entire world will be at risk. If I walk away and something happens that I could have prevented…”

Steve shook his head.

“I couldn’t live with myself, knowing that my inaction cost people their lives.”

They stared at each other, both tense and unyielding.

“You’re wrong,” Bucky said finally, “If you stepped away, someone else would take your place. You’re not the only one fighting for a better tomorrow, Steve, the world is full of good people. If you could just put aside your ego for five minutes and ask for help, you would get it.”

“I can’t ask this of someone else,” Steve replied tersely, “It’s too dangerous.”

“Then why are you asking it of yourself?”

“Because I can take it.”

“Can you?”

Steve gritted his teeth.

“Yes.”

Bucky scoffed.

“You’ve always been pigheaded.”

“You’ve always been a smartass.”

“Whatever,” Bucky pushed past Steve towards the elevator, “do what you want.”

“I will,” Steve retorted petulantly.

Bucky disappeared and Steve was left alone in the courtyard.

He sat back down heavily and his head fell into his hands.

Steve was right. Steve knew he was right. Bucky didn’t, _couldn’t_ , understand what he was trying to do. No one could and that wasn’t his ego talking: it was a fact. He was alone in this, as a leader and as whatever hero Frigga’s prophecy fated him to be.

It wasn’t a position he had asked for but if no one else could step up, then he had to.

He had to.

* * *

_Thwack. Thwack. Thwack._

Steve hit the punching bag with another combo. He had been training for hours and he couldn’t stop now. Worry and frustration had gnawed at him all night and in the morning he knew he had to get his butt into gear. He wasn’t sure what he’d be up against in the coming battle so he had to prepare for everything.

_Thwack. Thwack._

Natasha would be coming soon. Steve asked her to help him with the knife skills he was trying to pick up. He would have asked Bucky but, well, he was pretty sure Bucky didn’t want to see him right now.

_Thwack. Thwack. Thwack!_

Ugh. Bucky. 

Steve scowled at his taped up fists. After the anger and adrenaline faded he was left with the cold emptiness of arguing with a friend. It wasn’t fair. He and Bucky barely knew each other anymore. He shouldn’t feel so attached to him or so guilty for making him upset. Their connection was in the past, not the present. He didn’t owe Bucky anything.

_THWACK!_

Steve hissed in pain and pulled his fist back, rubbing his knuckles.

“Well, someone’s having a bad day.”

Steve looked up. Natasha watched him from the barbells with raised eyebrows. Her red hair was tied back into a braid and she crossed her arms over her simple workout gear.

“Hey, Nat,” Steve grumbled, stepping back from the swinging punching bag. 

“Heard you and your boy had a fight,” she said as she picked up the practice knives from their usual perch.

“Who told you that?”

“Sam,” she revealed, stepping up onto the mats, “apparently they really hit it off the other night.”

“Good for them,” Steve grumbled.

“Wow, sore subject?” She asked, tossing him one of the knives, “Apparently, your boy was so upset, he ranted about you for nearly forty minutes.”

“He’s not ‘my boy,’” Steve snapped.

He probably should have corrected her the first time she said it.

“Coulda fooled me,” she said, spinning the blade in her hands.

It wasn’t the same way Bucky did it, but Natasha was just as skilled with a knife as he was.

She swiped out at him without warning. With a start, Steve yanked back, quickly switching into sparring mode as the flat of Natasha’s practice blade smacked him in the arm.

“Tell me about when you guys were kids.” She demanded as Steve tried to jab at her.

“What? Why?” 

Natasha parried Steve’s next blow before slicing him across the ribs with her rubber blade.

“You get hit, you answer a question.”

“I’m not playing this game.”

She jabbed him in the thigh.

“If you were better at fighting you wouldn’t have to answer anything.”

Steve scowled and made another run at her, to no avail.

“Tell me about him.”

“Nat.”

“Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Steve dodged another swipe, “we went to camp together. Three months total. That’s it.”

“But you were best friends,” Nat countered, blocking his next two attacks.

“Only because the people at my school were shitty,” Steve retorted, “Bucky was best by default.”

“Liar.”

Her blade sliced across his throat.

“You were into him.” She guessed.

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“I _wasn’t.”_

Natasha grabbed him by the ankles and he hit the ground hard.

“Okay, fine!” Steve threw his knife aside, “I liked him, okay? I still like him. He was my best friend and I think about him all the time. He was my first kiss. He tried to flirt with me three days ago and I turned him down because the world needs me to be the ‘protector of the Earth’ or whatever Frigga said and I can’t be torn between what I want and what the world needs.”

Steve lay back on the mats and covered his face with his hands.

“Bucky thinks I should live the life I wanted before I got the serum,” he said, “but I can’t do that. There’s no point.”

There was no response. Steve could hear the fluorescent lights humming above him as he lay in silence with his hands over his face. Then the mats shifted as Natasha lay down next to him.

“Steve,” her voice was unusually soft, “do you know why I’m here?”

Steve peeked out between his fingers at her. She was lying on her side, watching him.

“Here?” He asked, gesturing at the gym around them, “or here here?”

“Here here.”

“Oh, um,” he swallowed, looking for the right words, “you want to do good. Help people.”

“I want to wipe the red of my ledger,” she said for him, “I want to make up for past mistakes.”

“Right.”

“The argument you and Bucky just had,” she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, “I have that same fight with Clint all the time.”

“What?”

“He wants to get out.” She said quietly, “He wants safety and a home. Not this life of violence.”

“And he wants you to go with him,” Steve guessed.

“He won’t leave without me.” She said, “He’d feel too guilty if something happened to me while he wasn’t here but I can’t go. I’m not done and I can’t just go because he wants me to. I have more to atone for and it’s not up to him to decide when my penance is done.”

Steve nodded sympathetically.

“But,” she continued, “I also know it’s not fair to ask him to wait for me.”

Steve paused.

“I have no idea when my conscience will be clear,” she said, “It could be tomorrow. It could be when I’m eighty. It could be never. I could die before I even get close. So, my next step is obvious.”

Steve sat up shaking his head.

“I should break up with him.” She said, “Let him go.”

“No, you guys love each other,” Steve insisted, staring down at her in horror, “he’d be heartbroken and so would you.”

“I know,” she said as if she had already accepted it, “but if I’m going to do what I set out to, I have to be prepared to sacrifice everything else. A home, a life, him. I can’t have those things because I’m not ready to have them. I have to earn them after everything I’ve done. That’s why I’m doing this to myself.”

“But you,” she sat up and leveled Steve with a piercing look, “I have no idea why you’re putting yourself through this.”

“What? Natasha—“

“You have nothing to atone for,” she said, searching his face like she couldn’t understand him, “Tony does. Bruce does. You could run off with a man who might love you but you won’t. Why? What do you have to gain here?”

“It’s not about gain,” Steve replied incredulously, “God, I can't believe you’re on Bucky’s side. I don’t want anything out of this. I’m just trying to help people!”

“That’s the problem,” Natasha squeezed his arm urgently, “You risk your life serving the people of this world on every mission and I worry that one day you’ll realize that you’ve given so much of yourself away that there’s nothing left. What’s the point of living if you’re not gaining something from it? You’re going to wear yourself into the shell of a person, Steve. You’re pushing yourself into a corner where you’re miserable and alone in the name of some greater good that you’ll never get to see.”

“It’ll be worth it,” Steve insisted, “when the world is safe, it will have been worth it.”

“That’s never going to happen,” Natasha told him desperately, “There’s always going to be something else. There’s always going to be a new threat. You’re waiting for a day that’ll never come.”

“So what?” Steve threw up his hands, angry now, “I’m just supposed to pack my bags? Leave you all to deal with the Chitauri on your own? Let the world burn?”

“All I’m asking is that you figure out what you want,” Natasha said placatingly, “There are other ways of helping people besides throwing yourself into deadly combat.”

“I can’t believe this.” Steve scoffed, frustration seething under his skin “You want me to use the super soldier serum to hand out petitions? To go around collecting soup cans in a little red wagon?”

“The serum is yours to do whatever you want with,” Natasha insisted, “No one said you have to be a soldier forever. God, if I had the freedom you have I would have left a long time ago. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Well, maybe I am atoning!” Steve yelled, “I spent my whole childhood sucking the life out of my mother! She worked to the bone trying to provide for me. She worked double shifts so I could go to a dumb summer camp! She spent every penny she ever made buying me medicine for my lungs and special shoes to help my scoliosis and every minute she wasn’t working she was plastering on a smile so that I wouldn’t know how much of a leech I was, killing her minute by minute until she worked herself to death!”

There were tears on his cheeks but he could barely feel them. He was on his feet now, he didn’t know when that happened.

“It had to be for something,” Steve whispered as tears slipped down his face, “She sacrificed everything for me and it had to be for something. I can’t— I can’t just sit around drawing pictures when she died so I could be here.”

“Oh, Steve.”

Natasha’s arms wrapped around his neck and he sank into the embrace. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder and took a shuddering breath.

“She died of cancer,” Natasha whispered, “and she loved you more than anything.”

“I know,” Steve’s voice was thick and shook with each word, “I know, it just— sometimes it just feels like—“

“Yeah, I know.” 

Natasha ran her hand up and down Steve’s spine while he fought off his sobs. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there but as the minutes passed, so did the shaking and eventually he fell still in Natasha’s arms and she pulled back, looking up at his face. She wiped the tears from his cheeks with her thumbs with a gentleness that didn’t often appear before speaking once again.

“Thanks for telling me,” she said softly, “I’m just going to say one more thing before we go eat a bunch of ice cream and watch one of those animated movies you like.”

“ _Lilo and Stitch?”_ Steve asked, ignoring how pathetic he sounded.

“Sure,” she said with a smile, brushing the longer strands of his hair out of his face, “just one more thing.”

Steve nodded.

“Your mom spent fifteen years of her life trying to give you a happy childhood. She worked hard to send you to camp so you could see your best friend and to get you those special shoes so you could run around during recess. She did those things because she wanted proof that, despite how much pain you were in, you could still be happy.”

Steve closed his eyes against a renewed sting of tears.

“She wanted to know that, no matter how much it hurt, you would be able to go on without her.”

Natasha’s fingers tilted his chin back up so he would look at her.

“How angry do you think she would be to find out how miserable you are?”

Burning tears slid down his cheeks once again.

“And that you’re hurting yourself for her?”

Steve sighed another shaky breath and Natasha pulled him back into a hug.

“I want you to be happy for your own sake,” she whispered, “but if you can’t do it for yourself then maybe you could do it for her? At least for now?”

Steve let out a shaky breath against her shoulder, unable to form words.

“Just think about it, okay?”

Steve nodded silently.

“Okay,” she rubbed his back once more before pulling away, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Steve let her usher him out of the gym and back up to his lame apartment.

“He said my apartment was boring,” Steve muttered as Natasha pushed him onto the couch.

“It is.”

She opened his freezer and dug around until she found a pint of chocolate fudge ice cream.

“He said my Russian accent sucks.”

“It does.”

She flopped down on the sofa next to him and handed him a spoon. She flicked the TV on and scrolled through Steve’s movie list until she found _Lilo and Stitch._

“He said I used to mean everything to him.”

Natasha paused and rested her head on his shoulder as the movie began to play.

“You could again.”

Steve pressed his cheek against the top of her head.

Yeah. Maybe he could.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve woke on his sofa with a sore neck and sticky chocolate smeared across his fingers. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the blank ceiling. Natasha had left late last night and he hadn’t had the strength to haul himself off the sofa to brush his teeth or get into bed. Steve felt strangely light as he stretched across the cushions. He sat up and twisted the kink out of his neck before stumbling into the shower and letting yesterday’s stains wash away.

In the light of morning, both Natasha and Bucky’s words returned to him with a fresh truth.

He didn’t like his job. He was good at it, but he didn’t like it. He had sunk so far into a pool of obligation and duty that he had completely ignored the fact that he was fucking miserable and there was no one to blame for that but himself. Natasha was right, there was no one holding him here. There was no one who would chide him for leaving, only himself. 

Steve watched warm water slide down his chest. 

He’d still feel guilty though, if he left. His skills were valuable and, without him, people could die. If not in the coming war then the next one, or the next one. 

Was it his responsibility, though? To sacrifice himself for the greater good? No one was asking him to but wasn’t that what made him a superhero? Doing what was right by one's own volition without reward? Frigga’s prophecy had singled him out as the one who would save Earth, how could he be thinking of leaving when she made it so clear that he was the only one who could stop this threat?

With a sigh, Steve watched soapy water spin down the drain at his feet.

There was no one else the prophecy could have meant. He had to fight. He had to keep fighting. Besides, if he threw in the towel now it wouldn’t be long before the Chitauri descended on the Earth to kill all in their path so any rest he took now would be short lived.

This revelation had come at the worst time. Irritated, Steve shut off the water and let the steam around him dissipate into the cool air as he scrubbed a towel across his skin. If Natasha and Bucky had taken it upon themselves to uproot Steve’s sense of purpose a month ago they might have succeeded, but to do it at the same time that Steve was all but named in a godly prophecy describing the fate of the planet was just cruel.

Steve dressed in a huff. He pulled on his uniform pants and a compression tee before staring at the silver and blue shield shining in the morning light from its place mounted on the wall.

He wanted to talk to Bucky, Steve realized as he stared at his own distorted reflection on the shield’s curved surface. He wasn’t sure what he would say or if Bucky would even listen but he wanted to see him. 

An apology was in order, at the very least.

Nervous, but resolute, Steve was halfway to the elevator on his way to see Bucky when his phone emitted a shrill emergency alert. Steve quickly pulled it out of his pocket and saw the urgent message Tony had sent through the building.

_Satellites picked up 8 more pods entering the solar system. Avengers Assemble._

* * *

Steve gasped as he slammed into the asphalt. Metal crunched around him as London’s Tower Bridge lurched closer to the Thames.

Eight pods. Each landing in a different city across the world. Four days of fighting. Four days of bloodshed.

The pods were bigger this time, each still housing only one Chitauri but these ones were different from the first scout. These creatures were built for combat. They were almost the size of Hulk with thick cybernetic limbs and armor that even Tony’s blasts couldn’t crack.

Steve groaned and pushed himself back onto his feet. The bridge lurched again and he grabbed the railing to keep from being thrown off while Natasha distracted the Chitauri with a grenade in its face.

So far, only the Hulk had managed to kill any of the Chitauri. This was the sixth they’d managed to corner and all the rest of the Avengers had managed to do was slow the creatures down so Hulk could get his hands on them.

If more came, the Avengers would be deeply outmatched.

Steve staggered forward and pulled his shield out of the side of an abandoned car. Tony flew past him to shoot another round of missiles at the Chitauri and Thor’s lightning crackled further down the bridge.

Frigga’s prophecy was starting to look more and more like a load of bullshit as a thick metal claw grabbed Steve around the waist and slammed him into one of the beams still trying desperately to hold the Tower Bridge up. 

Steve's skull rattled and his vision swam as the Chitauri loomed above him. One of Tony’s missiles hit the Chitauri in the back of it’s head and Steve twisted out of its grip as it screeched in Tony’s direction. He dropped down and tried to wedge his shield between the plates of its armor.

 _“Watch out for the venom!”_ Clint’s voice came through the com’s, _“Cap, you’re too close!”_

Trusting Clint to have a better eye on things than he did, Steve hit the ground as the creature’s teeth snapped in the spot he’d just been. He rolled out of the way as an arrow bounced off the creature's helmet and a roar echoed across the river.

Hulk sprinted towards them, fists ready and eyes full of fury.

The Chitauri picked up a car and hurled it. Steve scrabbled back as the two almost equally matched beasts faced off. A hand grabbed him by the harness and pulled him out of harm's way.

Bucky.

Steve still hadn’t had a chance to talk to him since their argument. They’d been thrown back into combat too quickly for any personal conversations. They ducked behind a pile of rubble together and Steve took a quick breather as the sounds of battle rose up behind them, finally back at Bucky’s side for the first time in days.

“God, this sucks.” Steve groaned as he peeked behind them and saw a fight that he definitely couldn’t help in.

“No shit,” Bucky grumbled as he reloaded his rifle, eyes darting around for more enemies as the bridge shook again.

If this was the only moment they were going to get together for a while, Steve wasn’t going to pass it up.

“Hey,” He said, grabbing Bucky by the arm to get his attention, “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day—”

“Now is _not_ a good time, Rogers!” Bucky interrupted incredulously, gesturing wildly at their flaming surroundings.

“I know, I know,” Steve nodded quickly and glanced back at the fight to make sure Hulk still had a handle on it, “I just wanted to say that I’ve thought about it and I—“

 _“Look out!”_ Natasha yelled and Steve looked up just in time to see Hulk go flying off the side of the bridge and splash down into the Thames.

“Fuck!” Bucky spun around and aimed his rifle at the alien, shooting off round after round as its eyes turned on them.

Steve leaped out from behind the rubble, shield ready, and blocked the first hit and the second. The third got him in the stomach and sharp talons ripped his tattered uniform sleeve almost clean off, leaving his bleeding left arm exposed.

Steve used the edge of his shield to hit the Chitauri in the face before attacking the joints in it's cybernetic limbs. He heard gunfire ping against the alien’s armor as the rest of the group tried to hold it off while Hulk dragged himself out of the river. 

_“Steve!”_

Steve heard the warning but it came too late. Worn from days of fighting, Steve stumbled as the Chitauri advanced on him. One moment, he was staring up at the sky and the next, a translucent tentacle-like tongue darted out from between two rows of razor sharp teeth. 

Steve’s hands came up automatically to defend himself and searing pain lit up his whole body as his bare arm disappeared between the sharp fangs and quickly became enshrouded in the tendrils of a long, barbed tongue. It suctioned itself to his skin and he felt a thousand tiny needles inject themselves into his flesh as sticky yellow venom flooded his bloodstream.

Steve’s scream was involuntary and unrestrained. 

He had been hurt before. He had been shot, stabbed, strangled, sliced, beaten, and half drowned but this… this was pain beyond comprehension.

His own heartbeat pounded in his head, drowning out the frantic shouting in the coms. He could hear Natasha’s voice and Bucky’s calling out to him but there was no more air left in his lungs. Gunfire rang around him and he tried to pull his arm away but only felt the sharp tendril clench harder as teeth sank into his shoulder. 

Black glistening eyes met his from beneath the alien’s weathered helmet. 

Then the creature’s posture shifted as instead of injecting, it began to suck.

Steve felt blood leaving his body as the creature’s translucent tongue turned red.

Black eyes widened and suddenly the alien pulled back. 

Steve screamed again as the alien released him and the hundreds of injection points all along his arm were soaked in more venom that seared with white-hot pain.

Unable to breathe, Steve’s scream faded and, in the silence, a thought that wasn’t his own pulsed through his brain.

_This one’s blood contains great power._

_Return to the hive_.

Steve stared up at the blue sky above with wide eyes.

_This blood must feed the Queen._

He was being carried. Sharp talons dug into his side as he lay limp in the Chitauri’s grasp.

_Come, we must feed her._

_“Hulk, save Steve!”_ An unfamiliar voice shouted in his ear, _“Forget the alien, just save him!”_

Something hard slammed into Steve from the side. The claws fell away as big green hands caught him. Anger coursed through his mind. 

_We will return for the prize. The Queen will come here for it. Must retreat._

“The Queen— she needs me,” Steve shoved back against the big hands holding him, “I can’t— I have to—“

Steve’s bleeding and venom soaked hand burned like hell as he tried to escape.

“Stay.” The hulking figure commanded as his thick fingers squeezed Steve tighter.

“I need to— she needs me—“ Steve saw the pod that would take him to the Queen dislodge itself from the bridge’s metal side.

“Steve!”

With a burst of thunderous energy, the pod rocketed towards the sky, taking the Chitauri with it and leaving him behind.

“No, no, no,” he whispered, reaching for it even as it disappeared behind the London clouds.

“Steve!”

The green beast released him and sat him on the ground before a woman’s worried face swam before him.

“Steve! God, your arm!” A man with wings dropped down next to her and pulled a wad of gauze out of his pack, “Tony, call the med team!”

“Don’t touch the venom!” A man with dark hair and a metal arm grabbed the other’s hands as they reached out.

Metal fingers began scratching across Steve’s skin, trying to scrape the venom off. Steve gasped as his cuts soaked in the liquid and blood dripped onto the pavement. His vision swam again. This was all wrong, he was supposed to return to the hive.

“Return to the hive,” Steve muttered, “Return to the hive.”

“What? Steve what are you saying?” The woman tilted his head up but his eyes wouldn’t focus on her.

“Medics on their way.” Someone said from somewhere above him, “I’m getting reports from the sites of the remaining two pods, Jarvis says they’re retreating?”

“Why? What happened?” Another asked.

“God, Steve,” The dark haired man with the metal arm muttered as he kept scrubbing at Steve’s bleeding skin, “you scared the shit out of me.”

Steve blinked and his eyes finally focused on the dark haired man. He didn’t recognize him.

Then, it clicked.

“Bucky,” Steve breathed suddenly.

He lurched forward and doubled over, gasping for breath.

“Steve!”

“Tony, where’s the medic?” Sam yelled.

“Bucky,” Steve hissed, clutching at him with his good hand while he dug his forehead into the rough asphalt, “I’m sorry.”

“Steve, breathe.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“For what? For what, Steve? I got you.” 

Hands rubbed his back as Steve forced his lungs to expand.

“No one deserves that,” he managed to get out between gasping breaths, “I'm so sorry.”

Bucky’s hands stilled against him before squeezing him tighter.

“I’m okay now,” Bucky whispered, “you will be too.”

Bucky’s hand found his and Steve hung on for dear life as he shoved his wounded arm out as far away from himself as he could.

“Get it off,” Steve begged desperately, “Get it _off.”_

Not looking, Steve could feel the scrape of a blade being dragged flat across his skin to scoop up as much of the venom as possible.

“There’s too much,” Steve hissed as the blade caught on his damaged skin, “the venoms in me already. I’m gonna forget again.”

“It’s okay,” Bucky lifted his face so they were looking at each other, “It’s okay, we won’t let anything happen to you and we won’t let you do anything bad. I swear.”

Steve shook his head. The voice in his head had been so strong, so convincing. He hadn’t even had a chance to resist.

“Knock me out,” he hissed.

“Steve—“

“Bucky, knock me out,” Steve insisted, “I can’t— I can’t do that again.”

Understanding flickered in Bucky’s eyes.

“Barnes, you can’t seriously—“

* * *

Steve stood in the empty streets of New York City. 

It was deathly silent. 

There were no cars honking, no children waiting for the crosswalk light to turn, and no harried workers rushing to their next meetings. Steve could hear nothing but the whistle of the wind flowing between the skyscrapers as he walked down the deserted street. He headed towards Avengers Tower, turning left on 5th Ave and then the next right. There was a SHIELD truck laying on its side. As he walked, the sidewalk became dense with small craters. A Starbucks sign hung from its post, limp and flickering next to a building that lay in total ruins, flames still licking quietly across the rubble.

Steve stepped over the debris and turned the next corner.

A broad Chitauri soldier stared at him from the middle of the road. Steve didn’t stop. He knew the soldier wouldn’t hurt him. 

Beady eyes watched as he walked past. The soldier was twice Steve’s height but Steve wasn’t afraid as he spotted another soldier further down the street, and then another.

On the next street there were a half dozen soldiers and on the next, a full battalion. They were still as statues as Steve walked between them. He kept going through the silent, grey city until the Tower came into view. It was surrounded by Chitauri. Their bodies were so dense, Steve almost couldn’t see the base of the building.

He could hear his own heart beating as he kept walking, weaving between the tightly packed Chitauri until he could see the open courtyard that framed the front of the building. 

Standing alone before all the soldiers was another creature.

Bulbous and pale, the Queen was silent. The slick, sharp talons at the tips of her six legs scraped quietly against the ground in anticipation. Her head was flat and insect like and framed by twisting horns pointing down on either side. Her segmented abdomen was broad and thick, protected with armored plates and spiked blades.

As Steve approached, her grey lips pulled back over glistening teeth. A long barbed tongue flicked out and venom hissed as it hit the pavement, boring holes into the concrete as it burned through.

Steve’s heartbeat pounded in his head, though he wasn’t sure why.

He had to go to her. He had something she wanted.

Steve stepped before her and stared up into her four black eyes, waiting. She looked down at him and then her gummy lips twisted into a smile. 

Steve felt his chest seize as one of her legs lifted and knocked him onto his back. A talon pierced through his ankle, pinning him to the ground. Steve gasped in pain as the talon pulled back and another pierced him through the shoulder. He felt wet blood seep across his skin as he lay on the pavement.

Glee filled his head as a claw wrapped around his waist and lifted him up, pinning him roughly against the side of the Tower.

The Queen stared at him with bright eyes. 

Teeth closed around Steve’s chest. He felt his ribs break one by one as blood began to drain from his body. His mouth opened but no sound came out. His hands clawed at the Queen’s face but he couldn’t find purchase. 

The pounding of his heart was all he could hear.

Her translucent grey skin began to flush red. Her eyes gleamed as she pulled back, her teeth stained with blood. 

_Thank you_.

With a grin on her face, the Queen pulled back one of her taloned legs and pierced it straight through Steve’s heart.

The air left his lungs. Pain coursed through his body.

The pounding in his head stopped.

* * *

Screams filled Steve’s ears. Screaming, shouting, and the whirr of machines were all dull and distant behind a dense fog. Steve twisted. Something was holding him down. He wanted to get out. Lights got brighter around him. The fog began to lift. The screaming got louder. Hands grabbed him. Metal tore as he forced himself up.

The screaming was coming from inside his own head.

Steve gasped. The screaming stopped. 

He was in the Avengers Tower Infirmary. A dozen hands shoved him back into the bed and metal cuffs were quickly reattached to his wrists.

“—only flatlined for a moment,” someone was saying frantically, “tell the guys out there to calm down, he’s not dead.”

“Good luck with tha—“

“—Let me in!”

“What the fuck is happening in here!”

“Steve!”

“Is he alright? We heard screaming!”

“Get out! This is supposed to be a sterile environment!”

“Jarvis said he flatlined!”

_“I may have spoken too soon, Sir.”_

“What the _fuck_ , J!”

“Yeah, J,” Steve grumbled, his throat deathly dry as he closed his eyes again, “what the fuck.”

There was a pause.

“Steve!”

“He’s awake.”

“Yeah, no shit, Doc.”

“Captain Rogers, can you hear me?”

“Dr. Park, mark the time.”

“Captain, what year is it?”

Steve pulled against the handcuffs. Hm, they were the special ones. He licked his lips and tried not to think about the dream he’d just had. It felt so real. 

“Captain, are you with us?”

“Steve, drink.” 

A cool cup pressed against his lips and a metal hand wrapped around the back of his neck. Steve gulped down a few mouthfuls and finally took a breath that didn’t hurt.

“Un-cuff me,” he whispered, his eyes still closed. 

“Is that wise?”

“We don’t know if the venom’s totally gone—“

“Oh, just do it!”

“We have to be sure—“

Steve was weak, but not that weak. He clenched and quickly pulled. His wrists flared with pain but when he settled back down, the cuffs were loose, snapped like toothpicks. He reached up and took Bucky’s hand. He pulled the cool metal down against his hot forehead and sighed in relief.

“Wow, that was a power move,” he heard Tony mutter, “it’s definitely him in there.”

Bucky’s hand remained against his forehead as Tony began bickering with one of the doctors.

“You here, Steve?” A low voice whispered in his ear.

“Yeah,” he breathed back.

Bucky’s thumb rubbed gently across his forehead.

Another hand squeezed his shoulder. Natasha.

“How long was I out?” He asked.

“A day,” Natasha said gently, “not quite 24 hours.”

“We only have approximations,” Bruce piped up from somewhere beyond the crowd of doctors and concerned Avengers, “but by my math the average human would have been under the influence of that amount of venom for about six days. Thanks to the serum, you managed to fight it off in about 20 hours.”

Steve’s brow furrowed as he began checking Bruce’s calculations in his head.

“It’s not your job to know that,” Bucky said, rubbing Steve’s forehead again.

“Right, right,” Steve muttered, “Can I go home now?”

“What? No,” Dr. Cho appeared above Bucky’s shoulder with an urgent edge to her voice, “Captain, this isn’t like being shot or stabbed or blown up or any of the other extremely destructive injuries you frequently sustain and then walk off against my instructions. This is an alien venom that flooded your neural pathways for almost a day. You can’t just leave. We need to monitor you for at least the next 48 hours in case you relapse and we need to establish a baseline so we have a sense of what might happen to other humans in this situation. You’re our patient zero. We need you to stay.”

Steve sighed and scowled up at the ceiling.

“Fine.”

“Thank you,” her relief was palpable, “alright, everyone out. The Captain is stable but we have more tests to run.”

“Hang on, hang on,” Sam interjected, “We need to talk about what happened on that bridge.”

“Sam’s right,” Natasha agreed with a grimace, “Steve, I know you’re probably out of it right now but we need to figure out why the aliens retreated when they did. We need to know when they’re going to come back.”

“Did you catch a glimpse of their thoughts?” Tony asked apologetically, “Can you remember anything?”

Steve’s jaw clenched.

The hive. The Queen. That dream…

He pushed Bucky’s hand off his forehead and, with a groan, sat up. He felt hands hovering around him as he lurched forward a little and felt the sting of stitches across his torso and arm. He looked down at his hands and saw the left one was bandaged from bicep to fingertips. He couldn’t see his skin but he could feel the lacerations that covered it all the way down.

“It drank my blood.” he said, flexing his fingers just to feel them burn, “It tasted the serum. They want to feed me to their Queen.”

The silence was only broken by the heart monitor slowly beeping at pace with Steve’s heart. Then Tony sucked in a sharp breath.

“Well, fuck.”

“The serum contains cellular regeneration properties,” Bruce muttered, “as well as speed, strength, agility… its a catch-all efficiency enhancer.”

“The Chitauri would benefit from such a prize,” Thor agreed, his wide brow furrowed, “they must have retreated to collect their Queen.”

“They’ll hunt you,” Bucky said, his eyes were wide and angry, “when they come back they’ll hunt you down.”

Steve nodded.

“That’s the plan, unless—“ he cut himself off.

“Unless what? Steve?” Natasha squeezed his shoulder. 

“Unless, they get more venom in me,” Steve told them quietly, “then I’ll just go to her.”

Clint scrubbed a hand through his hair and huffed out an overwhelmed breath.

“Jesus,” Tony rubbed his eyes. 

“We’ll protect you,” Bucky said fiercely, “next time they come, we won’t let them take you.”

“But the prophecy said you’d beat them,” Sam said shaking his head, “how can you do that if we don’t let any of them near you?”

“We can’t let him get infected again,” Bucky insisted angrily, “It’s too big a risk!”

“But the prophecy—“

“Fuck the prophecy,” Bucky spat, “Frigga kept saying that the fates were tricksters anyway, it might not even be true.”

“The fates are not liars,” Thor corrected, “The prophecy will ring true when the battle is over. However, it is not uncommon for prophecies to be true in unexpected ways.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tony groaned, “Can’t we just get a straight answer?”

“I am afraid not,” Thor shrugged apologetically.

“Well, I can’t see any other way to interpret that prophecy,” Clint interjected.

“Tony, play it back,” Natasha urged, “I want to hear the recording again.”

“J,” Tony called up to the AI.

 _“Right away, Sir,”_ Jarvis replied.

There was a beat of silence, then Queen Frigga’s voice filled the room.

_“There will come a day when the Stars bleed and the cold breath of Darkness falls heavy on the planet Earth. When the Eternal Night comes and the Stones of Victory weep tears of blood, a Hero will emerge from amongst them. Forged from Innocence and Blessed with Strength, the Soldier with Starlight in his heart will raise a Shield of hope against the coming Storm. In the shadow of Heroes he will slay the Darkness with an Unyielding Resolve. He is the Avenger: Protector of the Earth.”_

For a moment, everyone just thought.

“Shield of hope?” Clint asked expectantly, “Is there another shield wielding superhero in the Avengers that I don’t know about?”

“It’s possible that any one of us could pick up the shield,” Bruce suggested, “that might not be a distinctive factor.”

“Yes, but none of us can use it,” Natasha challenged, “Steve’s the only one quick enough to calculate its ricochet accurately.”

“What about, _‘Forged from Innocence and Blessed with Strength’_ ,” Sam asked, “if that’s not referring to Steve getting the serum, then what is it?”

“Combining that with all the other details, I don’t see another way around it,” Bruce said, “who else could it be but Steve?”

“This is stupid,” Bucky snapped, “Are we really going to throw caution and protocol out the window just because some lady said some shit we don’t even understand?”

“We can still be cautious, Barnes,” Clint placated, “we just need to give Steve the space to do what he’s going to do.”

“And what’s that?” Bucky gestured wildly at their obvious lack of a plan, “What are you going to do, Steve?”

Steve looked up from his bandaged hand and blinked a little helplessly at him.

“Exactly,” Bucky turned back to the others, “Steve is a target now. Our priority has to be keeping the Chitauri from getting to him.”

“There has to be a compromise,” Tony insisted, “we can’t just keep him locked away in a secret bunker or something. We need him on the field.”

“Figure it out, Stark,” Bucky retorted sharply, “You call yourself a genius? Then prove it.”

Tony balked at the challenge, then squared his jaw and nodded.

“Is there anything else you all would like to discuss,” Dr. Cho said after a beat of silence, “or may I return to treating my patient?”

“Right.”

A little sheepishly, the Avengers retreated and returned the space to the somewhat exasperated medics. Natasha squeezed Steve’s shoulder once more and gave him a little smile before following the others towards the door. 

“Don’t worry, Cap! We’ll keep an eye on things for you.”

“Get some rest, Steve”

“Call us if you need anything!”

Bucky didn’t move as the others left. Instead, he settled down onto a stool at Steve’s bedside as Steve lay back down. He would have asked Bucky to stay, but it seemed he didn't need to. Bucky already knew. 

“Sergeant Barnes,” Dr. Cho raised an eyebrow at Bucky, “You are not exempt from infirmary protocols.”

“Can he stay?” Steve asked, “I’d like it if he stayed.”

Dr. Cho looked at him, surprised.

“Just for a bit,” he added softly.

“I won’t get in your way, Doc,” Bucky said, crowding against the side of the bed to make himself smaller.

Varying levels of annoyance flitted across Dr. Cho’s face but ultimately, she sighed.

“If him being here will keep you from sneaking out early then I’ll take it,” she decided, “but I need a promise that you won’t leave until I discharge you.”

“Deal.” Steve replied immediately, relaxing a little against the bed, “Do whatcha gotta do, Doc.”

Dr. Cho shook her head and then turned to the rest of the medics around them to dole out instructions.

Bucky planted his elbows on the bed’s railing and leaned in to whisper into Steve’s ear.

“I know you hate hospitals.”

“Yeah,” Steve reached out and lay his bandaged fingers against Bucky’s metal wrist, “usually I leave the moment I’m conscious again.”

Bucky nodded, his soft hair brushing against Steve’s cheek. Bucky slid his hand up to Steve’s elbow so their forearms were pressed together. The coolness of the metal seeped through the bandages and soothed Steve’s inflamed skin.

“It’s the—“ Steve started, then stopped again as he heard Dr. Cho giving orders to take blood samples every hour.

“You don’t have to explain,” Bucky said softly.

“When I was a kid,” Steve got out, “some doctor or nurse would always come over and start touching me, sticking me with needles, or pushing me where they wanted me. They explained what they were doing but sometimes I couldn’t hear them and it would surprise me. I hated it so much.”

Bucky nodded again.

“We can ask Dr. Cho to come explain everything that happened while you were unconscious,” he suggested, “and what she’s planning to do now.”

“She always does,” Steve replied, “they've never done anything here that I didn’t agree to but I guess I’m always just… paranoid that something unexpected will happen.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched.

“Like the serum?”

Steve flinched.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment, “Yeah, Buck. Like the serum.”

Bucky squeezed his hand more tightly.

“Captain Rogers,” one of the medics, Nurse Cortez, quietly interrupted and held up a narrow syringe, “blood sample?”

Steve extended his good arm to her and turned his face towards Bucky.

“Distraction?” Bucky asked as Steve felt the sharp needle prick his skin.

“If you’ve got one.”

“Back on the bridge,” Bucky said, “you wanted to tell me something?”

Well, that was certainly distracting.

“Ah,” Steve felt his face begin to heat up.

With the adrenaline of combat already coursing through him it had felt easy to slip an apology out. Now though, Steve’s nerves started acting up. Bucky didn’t seem mad, at least now that Steve was injured, but there was a chance that Bucky was still upset. Steve was never one to back down once he’d made up his mind though so he gathered himself and quickly organized his thoughts.

“I just wanted to—“

“His heart rate is elevating,” another nurse said suddenly, “Should we reactivate the neural scanner?”

“How high?” Dr. Cho’s voice came from somewhere beyond Steve’s field of vision.

“It’s fine!” Steve yelled, his face bright red now, “I’m just embarrassed, okay?”

Bucky barked out a laugh and even Nurse Cortez snorted as she pressed a cotton swab against the inside of his elbow and took the syringe off to Dr. Cho. 

“Sorry,” Bucky chuckled, “I didn’t realize this would be such a charged subject.”

“Sergeant Barnes, you said you wouldn’t get in my way,” Dr. Cho called back.

“Sorry, Doc!” He replied with a charming grin, “Won’t happen again.”

The room quieted again as everyone got back to work and Bucky’s smile turned in full force back on Steve.

“I guess we can talk about something else,” he decided, “the weather, perhaps?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Steve’s face was still red and the beeping of the heart monitor was loud in his ears.

Whatever, his heart rate was already up. Might as well just get it over with.

“It’s a lovely 67°,” Bucky continued with a gleeful smirk, “Partly cloudy. 23% chance of rain—”

“I wanted to apologize,” Steve interrupted, “I thought about what you said and I think maybe you were right.”

Bucky gaped at him, stunned almost to silence.

“O-oh,” Bucky pulled back a little and shook his head as if he hadn’t heard properly, “I— really?”

Steve huffed and rolled his eyes.

“You heard me.”

“I… wow,” Bucky blinked and a confused smile settled on his face, “I wasn’t expecting that. You’ve always been so stubborn.”

“Yeah, well.” Steve dragged his fingertips across the inner curve of Bucky’s metal elbow, “Natasha had a few points to add to your argument.”

“Really?”

“She and I talked about it and…” he trailed off and looked away, “well, I decided to reconsider some stuff. I’m sorry I got so mad, you were just trying to look out for me.”

A finger poked his cheek.

“Dummy,” Bucky chided.

Bucky’s hand turned against Steve’s skin and then the flat back of his finger gently stroked across Steve’s cheek.

The steady beat of the heart monitor stuttered and kicked up another notch.

Eyes flicked to them once again and Bucky quickly pulled back. Steve looked away awkwardly. He didn’t want rumors spreading about them, especially when nothing was going on. 

Especially when Steve had turned Bucky down just last week.

Jesus, he was stupid.

“So, what did you decide?” Bucky asked with a new casual tone to his voice.

He was sitting back now, hands to himself. The arm that had been helping cool down Steve’s skin was gone too.

“I can’t really change anything right now,” Steve said, “but once the Chitauri have been dealt with, if we don’t all die, maybe I could…”

He shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Natasha didn’t have any ideas?” Bucky asked in a neutral tone.

“We didn’t really get that far,” Steve replied quietly, “the whole conversation hit me kind of hard.”

A flicker of empathy creased Bucky’s brow and he leaned forward again, not touching but closer.

“You’ll have all the time in the world to figure it out,” Bucky told him, “whatever you want to do, you could do. I’m not going to tell you what’s right.”

Bucky was right, of course, but the words left Steve feeling strangely adrift anyway.

Who was he without the shield? Take it away and what was left?

Anything?

“Captain?”

Steve looked up at Dr. Cho who pulled up a stool on his other side and placed a clipboard on her lap.

“I’ve written up a full report of what happened and my plan moving forward,” she said, “you ready to hear it?”

Steve nodded once.

“Alright, stop me if you have questions.”

She began explaining the specifics of the past 20 hours, giving the figures and details Steve usually asked for, and not skipping over any of the unpleasant moments. 

Bucky remained a solid presence at his side. He sat quietly and unobtrusively as Dr. Cho finished her explanations and Steve gave his consent for the tests she proposed. Nurses and medics flitted around taking measurements and samples, scanning him with machines, and asking him to move or flex or breathe. Occasionally, Steve would drift into unconsciousness and then back and Bucky would still be there even when his bed was rolled down halls and through big scanners and relocated to another room. It was a comfort he hadn’t known he wanted.

He didn’t know what time it was anymore. The lights were dim in the new room and there was a curtain around the bed. But Bucky was still sitting next to him, a hand resting on the edge of the mattress. 

“‘M glad you’re here,” Steve whispered, reaching out.

Bucky looked up from the narrow paperback in his lap and smiled gently.

“Go to sleep, Steve,” he replied, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Steve let his eyes slide shut and Bucky’s hand met his own. It didn’t take long before he was slipping back down into darkness.

* * *

Steve stood in the empty streets of New York City. It was silent. 

He headed towards Avengers Tower, turning left on 5th Ave and then the next right. A broad Chitauri soldier stared at him from the middle of the road. Steve didn’t stop. He knew the soldier wouldn’t hurt him. 

On the next street there were a half dozen soldiers and on the next, another battalion. He kept going through the city until the Tower came into view. 

Standing alone, the Queen was waiting.

As Steve approached, her insect-like face twisted into a smile. Venom hissed against the pavement.

She knocked him back. A talon pierced through his ankle.

Suddenly, Steve felt a burst of adrenaline.

This was wrong. Why wasn’t he fighting back?

He flailed as her second talon got him through the shoulder. Hot blood splattered around him.

The queen lifted him up and pinned him against the side of the Tower.

Steve kicked her in the face. With a growl, teeth closed around Steve’s chest.

He felt his ribs break one by one as blood began to drain from his body. His hands clawed at the Queen’s face but he couldn’t find purchase. 

The pounding of his heart was all he could hear.

Her translucent grey skin began to flush red. Her eyes gleamed as she pulled back, her teeth stained with blood. 

_You won’t escape me_.

With a grin on her face, the Queen pulled back one of her taloned legs and pierced it straight through Steve’s heart.

The pounding in his head stopped.

* * *

“…satellites took these images this morning. Fourteen ships, all heavily armed, are heading for Earth. We predict they’ll get here tomorrow.”

Steve watched blankly as Bruce continued his presentation. New York was in mid evacuation. Outside, he could hear the wailing of sirens and the honking of horns as the mass exodus took place. Where they were going, Steve wasn’t sure but the city had been marked as the focal point of the alien attack because that’s where Steve was and the aliens were coming for him.

If the aliens didn’t kill him the guilt would, he thought as another round of honks arose from the street below.

He’d been discharged from the infirmary yesterday. Dr. Cho had deemed him healthy, if a little sleep deprived, though Steve had failed to tell her why. He knew he should have told her about the dreams but he hadn’t been able to get the words out. Dr. Cho was confident that the venom had left his system so he assumed they were just dreams and not the thoughts of a deranged parasitic alien Queen. He probably should have gotten a second opinion though.

“One is bigger than the other thirteen,” Bruce explained as another satellite image appeared on the screen behind him.

“The Queen’s ship?” Natasha asked from across the conference table.

“We believe so,” Bruce said with a nod.

Steve looked at the wide triangular ship. There was no spike of fear or anxiety at the sight of it. If there was, Steve wouldn’t have been able to feel it. He’d been feeling so much dread since they’d gotten sight of the first pod that he doubted any new development would make him feel anything substantial at all.

The far door of the Avengers Conference room burst open.

Bucky, Natasha, and Clint had guns drawn instantly but it was only a panting Stark employee. He must have sprinted here.

“SHIELD is here,” the man gasped out, “They’re taking Alexander Pierce to the infirmary.”

Steve was wrong. His heart clenched as Bucky’s posture faltered for a split second. He was at Bucky’s side in an instant as the Avengers quickly followed the Stark employee out and towards the infirmary.

Bucky said nothing as the elevator took them down and his expression was inscrutable as the doors opened to reveal some two dozen SHIELD agents, Agent Hill, and Director Fury all standing back while Dr. Cho and two others inspected a handcuffed Alexander Pierce.

He looked like shit. His face was caked with dirt and blood, his suit was in tatters around his limp body where he lay, and through the scraps of fabric Steve could see lacerations that he could guess matched the talons of the Chitauri.

“We found him in the rubble of a Hydra facility in Eastern Russia,” Fury said curtly as they entered, “The Chitauri that attacked him was one of the ones that retreated, but not before decimating the place.”

“We brought him here because he might have information on the Chitauri,” Maria told them urgently, “he’s weak but we can still interrogate him.”

It was a peace offering, Steve realized as Fury looked at him, then Bucky. Fury had been proven wrong and was trying to make amends. Steve deferred to Bucky’s judgement. It was his forgiveness that Fury needed, not Steve’s.

“If we had gotten to him sooner—“ Dr. Cho cut herself off before looking up at them, “I seriously doubt he’ll live long.”

“My work is done,” Pierce spat, swatting away the hands of one of the medics with his bound wrists. 

His voice was rough and barely decipherable. Every breath he took sounded ragged and wet.

“You’ve seen to the destruction of Hydra,” Fury told him flatly, “I doubt that was your plan.”

“I brought salvation to humanity,” Pierce replied, the whites of his eyes gleaming against his bloody skin, “Soon, every human on earth will be united with a single mind and a single purpose.”

“Is that what they promised you?” Fury asked, condescension dripping from each word “You invite them to Earth and in exchange they give you enough venom to poison everyone on the planet?”

“I will unite us like none before me,” Pierce confirmed.

His eyes lost focus as he spoke but his wild grin never wavered.

“He’s fucking mad,” Sam muttered under his breath.

“Did you miss the part where a single Chitauri wiped out your entire base?” Fury asked, with an unimpressed stare, “Or the part where they left you for dead?”

“Hydra will be reborn,” Pierce hissed in pain but pressed on, “the dawn of a new era will come. Cut off— cut off one head an—and—“

His chest spasmed. Dr. Cho stepped forward again but he flailed out at her. Maria jumped forward and pulled Dr. Cho back protectively, gun at the ready. 

“Director, he’s suffered major trauma and several head wounds,” Dr. Cho whispered over Maria’s shoulder, “he’s unstable. His lung collapsed, his brain is—”

Bucky stepped forward.

Steve had never seen the expression on his face before. He moved to follow but Natasha’s hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait,” she whispered to him as Bucky approached the head of Hydra.

The whole room watched as Bucky stepped into Pierce’s field of view and the old man choked out a laugh.

“The Asset,” he breathed, “Soldier, y-you’ve returned.”

A hysterical, wet laugh bubbled in Pierce’s throat.

“Finally,” he choked, blood pooling at the corners of his mouth, “you must com-complete the mission. Our glory is im-imin-iminent. You will see it through. Together, we will remake the world.”

Staring into Pierce’s eyes, Bucky slowly shook his head.

“You dare disobey?” Pierces glee turned sour, “I am your— I am your com-commander.”

“I obey no one but myself,” Bucky replied in a measured, deliberate tone.

“You will ob-obey me,” Pierce hissed, squirming against the handcuffs.

“No, you will obey me,” Bucky decided before giving Pierce his one and only command, “Die.”

Pierce's eyes went wide and furious, he jerked up reaching for Bucky but Bucky didn’t even flinch as Pierce began to cough and sputter. Blood dripped down his chin as his limbs spasmed. Beneath the grime, his skin turned red, then purple as he struggled to breathe. 

“H—hai—hail,” he wheezed. 

Another wet gasp was all it took. 

The room fell silent as Alexander Pierce choked to death on his own blood.

Then, a sigh. Bucky’s shoulders relaxed and his head tipped back as the breath of relief left him. Steve slipped out of Natasha’s grip and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Guy seriously thought the aliens would help him,” Clint shook his head, “what an idiot.”

“Don’t know if the brain damage helped or hurt that belief,” Sam agreed.

“Good riddance,” Fury muttered, “Let’s clean this place up. Apologies, Dr. Cho.”

Dr. Cho waved him off while Maria led her over to a stool.

Bucky turned away from the body as the SHIELD agents began dealing with it. He looked up at Steve and it was like the sharp edges that constricted his very being had been smoothed over. His hair fell away from his face and there was a new softness in his eyes.

“Stevie,” he whispered.

“Yeah, Buck?”

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Barnes.”

They paused as Fury spoke. Bucky looked at Fury for a moment before curtly nodding once and walking away. With one last look at Fury, Steve followed. 

It wasn’t forgiveness but the peace offering had been accepted.

Bucky led the way towards the elevators. As they passed the rest of the Avengers, several stuck their hands out to squeeze Bucky’s arm or take his hand, which he accepted easily. Steve smiled as they stepped into the elevator together. Bucky was basically one of them. An Avenger in all but name.

When they arrived on the communal floor, Bucky sank onto the soft couch and seemed to deflate between the cushions.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked, sitting down next to him.

“Yeah,” Bucky breathed, “yeah, I just…”

He trailed off.

Steve waited patiently. 

“Without Pierce, Hydra is nothing,” Bucky whispered, “it's a shit-hole place filled with asshole people who get off on controlling others. They’re all power-hungry Nazis who think they’re better than everyone else and will do whatever they have to do to prove it. Without a leader, every idiot there will be scrambling for power. They’ll kill each other trying to climb to the top, ripping the organization into factions. They’re already weak from the Chitauri attacks. The organization won’t survive.”

He glanced up at Steve. He looked lost.

“I didn’t think this would happen,” he said, “I really thought… I really thought Hydra would outlive me.”

Steve smiled at him.

“You’re free, Bucky.”

Tears sprung in Bucky’s eyes as a smile crept over his face. He took a breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob and before Steve could think too hard about it, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s waist and buried his face in his chest.

Bucky’s hands quickly wrapped around his shoulders and squeezed him tight. Tremors went through Bucky’s body as his emotions got the better of him and Steve just held on with a firm and grounding grasp. The front of Bucky’s uniform was rough against his cheek but Steve could still feel the warmth of his chest through the kevlar. Hands petted his hair and clutched at his shoulders. They flitted across his back and neck, sometimes gripping tightly and sometimes just drifting as Bucky’s breathing evened out beneath him. Long minutes passed but eventually Bucky nudged Steve’s shoulders until he pulled back a little.

Bucky’s eyes were still a little wet and Steve could see the paths of half dried tears on his cheeks. He reached forward and wiped them away with his thumb.

“You okay?” He asked softly as Bucky wiped the other side of his own face with his metal hand.

“Fine,” he said, only sniffing a little, “there’s just a lot going on right now.”

Steve huffed. That was an understatement. He lay his head back down on Bucky’s chest.

“Yeah,” he agreed after a long moment.

Bucky’s fingers slowly dragged through Steves hair. 

“Don’t know where I’d be without you,” Bucky whispered so softly Steve almost didn’t hear him.

“Better off,” Steve replied guiltily.

“No,” Bucky’s other hand wrapped around Steve’s shoulders again, “No, I don’t think I would be.”

It wasn’t for Steve to judge whether or not that was true. He couldn’t. All he could do was silently hold Bucky a little tighter.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, “You haven’t said much since you were discharged.”

Steve tensed. 

He didn’t want to bring up the dreams. Bucky was already worried about him for a litany of reasons and he didn’t want to add another item to that list.

“The venom was a lot,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “I’m still kind of dealing with it.”

Bucky squeezed the back of his neck.

“You can talk to me about it, if you want,” he said, “I’ve been there.”

“I doubt my measly 20 hours was in any way comparable to the years you spent under it.”

“Hey,” Bucky poked his shoulder firmly, “it’s not a competition. Hurting is hurting. Pain is pain. We’re not gonna sit here and play ‘who's got it worse,’ okay?”

“How are you so well adjusted,” Steve grumbled, smooshing his face more firmly against Bucky’s chest.

“I have a therapist, obviously,” Bucky replied, “you should get one.”

“Probably.”

“Definitely.”

They lay in silence for a few minutes, then Steve heard his phone buzz.

He groaned and carefully detangled himself from Bucky’s embrace.

“You have kevlar prints on your face,” Bucky told him with a grin.

Steve rubbed his cheek with a little laugh and grabbed his phone.

“We need to go back down to finish the meeting,” he said, quickly reading Bruces’ text, “we still need a game plan for tomorrow.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re just going to wing it,” Bucky said, stretching as he stood and following Steve out.

“Probably,” Steve agreed.

They weren’t wrong.

Bruce finished his presentation, outlining precisely how fucked they were, and then Tony explained the perimeter he and SHIELD were establishing around Manhattan to try to contain the violence— or at least, tried to explain

“The ships might not all come,” he was saying, “They might scatter. Who knows, who cares, I don’t. The Queen’s all we need. Steve’s got that. Because bees.”

Tony was jittery. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair stuck up wildly in all directions. He’d probably drunk way too much coffee working through the night.

“What about bees?” Clint asked, fiddling with his hearing aid as if that would make Tony’s words make more sense.

“Stark, walk it back,” Sam took the half empty Starbucks cup out of Tony’s hands, “what are you saying?”

“Bees!” He said more loudly, “They’re a hive-mind like bees!”

He pointed accusingly at Bucky.

“Barnes told me to figure it out and I did!”

“It doesn’t mean anything if no one else can understand you,” Bucky replied with a furrowed brow, “explain from the beginning.”

Tony huffed and gave them all an irritated scowl before starting again.

“I went to see Thor’s mom again,” he said, “and she let me look at some old ass books that had Chitauri stories in them. They were mostly kids stuff, like the boogie man, but I realized that the Chitauri function like bees. The Queen is all that matters because she produces all the kiddies but also because without her the hive literally collapses.”

Tony waved his hands again.

“The Queen is the source of the hive-mind!” He explained loudly, “Her mind is the hive-mind! If she dies the hive dies! They won’t be able to communicate with each other!”

He did jazz hands as if saying _Ta-Da!_

There was a pause as everyone thought.

Tony threw up his hands exasperatedly.

“Wow, Tony!” He exclaimed for them, “That’s so awesome, Tony! You’re so smart, Tony! We love you, Tony!”

He slumped back into his chair and snatched his coffee back from Sam.

“Are you sure?” Natasha asked thoughtfully as Tony chugged the rest of it, “We can’t stake it all on the Queen unless you’re absolutely sure.”

“Yes, I’m sure!” Tony yelled indignantly, “You think I’d present this shit if I wasn’t sure? There’s an 87% chance this will work.”

“87?” Bruce asked with a cringe, “So there’s a 13% chance we kill the Queen and nothing happens?”

“Oh, sure, focus on that part,” Tony grumbled.

“You got this from kids stories?” Sam asked, looking skeptical.

“It _started_ with kids stories,” Tony sighed dramatically, “then after I had my magnificent epiphany we dug into the archives and by the end Queen Frigga agreed with me!”

“I can attest to this,” Thor agreed, “Mother was most impressed.”

 _“Impressed,_ you guys hear that?” Tony blew a big two-handed kiss at Thor, “ _Mwah,_ at least someone appreciates me.”

“Well, this is our only lead so far,” Clint admitted, “I say we go for it.”

“And if it fails?” Bruce asked.

“Then we’re fucked.”

* * *

Steve looked down at the empty streets of New York City. It was deathly silent below him.

The evacuation was complete. Only the Avengers remained in the center of Manhattan while SHIELD and whatever other forces the world could muster held a perimeter around the island to see how they’d fare. 

Behind him, he could hear the other Avengers talking quietly in the common room. They were all just waiting now in quiet anticipation for the battle that would commence the following day. There was no more to prepare. No more information to gather, no more training that could help them, and no more allies on their way.

As Steve stared out across the strange, dark ghost town in front of him, Frigga’s prophecy churned over and over itself in his head.

_“…when the Stars bleed … when the Eternal Night comes… a Hero will emerge from amongst them… he will raise a Shield of hope against the coming Storm… he will slay the Darkness with an Unyielding Resolve… he is the Avenger: Protector of the Earth.”_

He searched it for clues. 

“ _Slay the darkness with an Unyielding Resolve.”_

How could he slay something with resolve? If it was a metaphor then what would he use to slay this “darkness?” A gun? A knife? Slaying was for swords and he didn’t have one of those.

_“Raise a Shield of hope against the coming Storm.”_

Steve pictured himself holding his shield up to the Chitauri Queen. He imagined throwing it at her and wondered if it could pierce her thick hide or if it would just bounce off.

_“He is the Avenger: Protector of the Earth.”_

The concept of “avenging” had always been strange to Steve. It was their group name sure, but Steve hadn’t picked it. It strangely implied that they had already lost. It implied retaliation. Steve supposed he could be avenging Bucky, who was perhaps the person who had felt the most harm at the hands of the Chitauri so far. Maybe if he kept Bucky’s face in his mind, he’d find the strength to succeed. It was a cliché thought, but Steve was nearing the point of desperation.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do, all he knew was that he could not fail.

Somehow.

“I have presents for everyone,” Tony announced, interrupting Steve’s thoughts, “I see you brooding over there, Steve. Get your ass over here.”

“I wasn’t brooding,” Steve grumbled, as he turned to face the group.

“You kind of were.”

“I could see the storm cloud from here.”

“You were.”

Steve scowled petulantly and came to stand by the couch where Clint was sprawled and fiddling with one of his arrows. Nat was curled up next to him with a pillow in her lap and a semi-vacant expression on her face. Bruce stood by Tony, peering curiously into the large crate he dropped onto the coffee table. Thor was sitting on the floor in front of them with a large flagon of Asgardian ale mixed with half a bottle of tequila in his hand. Sam and Bucky were both sitting by the kitchen talking quietly with their heads close together.

“You too, Wilson, Barnes,” Tony called over to them.

Sam and Bucky looked up. Bucky had a frustrated frown on his face and Sam gently punched his shoulder and whispered one last comment before they both moved to join the group.

Steve looked at Bucky curiously as they approached. Their eyes met and Steve tilted his head, silently asking if he was alright. Bucky forced on a smile and shook his head dismissively. 

There were a lot of things that could be bothering him and none that Steve could do much about. Steve accepted the dismissal and turned his attention back to Tony.

“So, I’m not in the business of giving stirring speeches,” Tony began, “and it’s not because I’m not outrageously charismatic—“

Clint snorted loudly.

“—it’s because— fuck you, Barton— it’s because I want Cap to feel useful.”

Steve gave Tony a flat look while a few chuckles rose from the group.

“So, instead I decided a few last minute presents were in order.”

Tony rifled through the box in front of him.

“Lets see, ladies first,” Tony pulled out a thick gauntlet from the pile, “check this out, Nat.”

He tossed it to her and she gave it a quick once over before strapping it to her wrist. It hissed and clamped down around her forearm perfectly and Steve could see the tips of at least two dozen stingers around the edges.

“Forty-eight rounds,” Tony told her, “and an extra twenty-four in the compartment on the bottom. High intensity, should stun a Chitauri for at least fifteen seconds.”

“Nice,” Nat grinned, “Thanks, Stark.”

Despite Tony’s egomania, he was terrible at taking compliments or receiving thanks so he didn’t reply. Instead he dug around some more and pulled out two sets of goggles.

“Wilson, Barton,” he tossed them both out, “standard sight, night vision, heat vision, ultraviolet, and hooked up to Jarvis. Should help you both navigate and stay linked from afar.”

The two quickly pulled the thick green visors over their eyes.

“You both look stupid,” Nat said with a smirk as they both looked aimlessly around.

“Stupid’s better than dead,” Sam decided, flipping the goggles up to give Tony a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll make them prettier if we don’t all die,” Tony replied with a shrug and digging back into his box.

“Hulk and Thor don’t really need my help,” he said, “so I got you guys these friendship bracelets.”

Clint laughed hysterically as Tony presented them each with what looked like a single Iron Man branded athletic wristband from the gift shop downstairs.

“Wow,” Bruce said flatly, “thanks.”

“I will gladly wear this token of friendship and brotherhood,” Thor said jovially.

He pulled the wristband on over his bracer and it beeped once with a little flash of light.

“Oh, I also installed a microchip that’ll beep and flash if a Chitauri gets too close to the perimeter,” Tony said casually, “you two are the fastest and strongest so you’ll be able to deal with any breaches the best.”

“Only you, Tony,” Bruce sighed before tugging the wristband on, “This thing better stretch for Hulk.”

“What am I? An amateur?” Tony scoffed, “And for Barnes—”

Bucky’s head jerked up in surprise. He pointed at himself confusedly, as if there were another “Barnes” Tony could be talking to.

“There isn’t much vibranium in the world,” Tony said, either not noticing or ignoring Bucky’s surprise, “but I had some scraps lying around.”

He pulled something long and thin out of the box and tossed it over.

Bucky caught it easily and held it for a moment before grabbing it from both ends and pulling. In one smooth motion, Bucky unsheathed a long silver blade. It was narrower than an average knife, almost more like an ice pick. It would definitely be more useful for stabbing than slicing but Steve was confident that Bucky could use it more effectively than anyone else.

“Cool,” he said, giving Tony a grin, “Thanks, Stark.”

“And lastly,” Tony said, ignoring Bucky’s thanks too, “Cap.”

Steve raised his eyebrows as Tony reached into the box again and pulled out a long black one-piece bodysuit.

“You get punctured a lot,” was all Tony said as he tossed over the garment.

Steve caught it and the suit felt like a mix between silk and kevlar in his hands. The fabric was textured like athletic wear but also sturdy like denim. He looked at Tony expectantly.

“It’s just something I’ve been working on,” Tony explained dismissively, “A prototype, really. I saw how your uniform ripped when that last Chitauri got you with the venom. I didn’t have time to do more than repair it but if you wear that underneath, not even the Chitauri’s teeth should be able to break through to your skin.”

Steve gave the fabric an experimental pull, hard enough to tear. The fabric didn’t budge.

“Hm, that’ll be useful,” Steve mused as he twisted the fabric.

“If it works,” Tony said with a shrug, “like I said, it’s a prototype.”

“I’ll let you know how it holds up.” Steve said, “Thanks, Tony.”

Tony gave him an awkward little salute before dipping into the box one more time.

“And now my gift for myself!” He declared loudly.

Behind him, Bruce rolled his eyes fondly.

Tony pulled out his Iron Man helmet and held it up as high as he could.

“Behold! Mark 8!”

There was a pathetic smattering of applause and a single, sad “woo” from Clint who was already back to playing with his goggles.

“My most advanced model yet!” Tony lost none of his enthusiasm as he began rattling off improvements and upgrades, “I can get up to 6G’s with this thing! It has interlocking plates, 360° vision, improved flight stability, and three more rocket launchers!”

Steve smiled as the team took to experimenting with their new toys and Tony continued showing off his new suit to his inattentive audience.

If Steve had to die tomorrow, at least he was doing it with these idiots.

* * *

Steve stood in the empty streets of New York City. He was used to the silence by now. The burning streets were familiar and the silent, unmoving Chitauri stood like sentinels around him as he made his way to the Queen. 

She waited for him as she always did. Eager and twitching as he approached. 

This time though, his shield was in his hand. 

When he stood at her feet and the first strike of her talon came towards him he knocked it aside. The Queen jabbed down to stab through his ankle and he dodged. 

He could feel her irritation growing in his mind as he eluded her. 

He blocked her next attack and darted beneath her before spinning around and attacking from behind. He jammed his shield into the thick shell of her abdomen. It left a dent but did not break through. She quickly shook him off and sliced through his shoulder.

Steve grunted and fought through the pain. He switched tactics and went for her head.

He threw his shield, bouncing it off the side of the tower and watching it collide with her neck before returning to his hand. The Queen hardly reacted. Her dripping fangs snapped at him and he ran back, panting a foot at the base of the tower and leaping up. He held his shield high and aimed down to crack her right in the skull but before he made contact, a long sharp talon pierced through his shoulder. 

The shield fell from his hand, clattering to the pavement. 

His back was pinned against the tower. Blood soaked his skin.

_You think you can change your fate?_

Her raspy voice echoed through his head. Steve jerked away, trying to resist.

_I have conquered a thousand worlds and consumed a thousand souls._

Steve opened his mouth but no sound came out.

_You will join them and live eternally in the blood of the hive._

The Queen sank her venomous fangs into Steve’s chest. The red of Steve’s blood poured color into the Queens translucent face. His hands clawed at the Queen’s face but he couldn’t find purchase. She drank and Steve felt himself fading. 

The pounding of his heart was all he could hear.

The Queen’s eyes gleamed as she pulled back, her teeth stained with blood. 

_Thank you_.

With a grin on her face, the Queen pulled back one of her taloned legs and pierced it straight through Steve’s heart.

The pounding in his head stopped.

* * *

Steve gasped awake. 

He was in his bed in Avengers Tower. The sheets were soaked with sweat and his heart was racing. He took in a few ragged breaths and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair.

His hands shook.

The dreams felt so real. The Queens face was so vivid, so clammy under his hands as she bit into him.

Steve shuddered and hugged himself, squeezing his arms around the place she bit him every time. 

His skin stung. 

He froze and looked down. His white t-shirt looked fine but... his chest really hurt. 

Steve was up in an instant. He staggered to the bathroom and flicked on the lights. He ripped the shirt off and let it fall to the ground as he stared at himself in the mirror. 

His left arm was still covered in narrow, parallel scratches that twisted around his forearm from bicep to wrist but his eyes skimmed over the scabbing wounds to his chest.

A line of punctures ran from just below his collarbone down to his hip, and back up again in a huge, singular bite mark. Some of the teeth had just left angry red marks while others had broken through his skin and were seeping slow trickles of blood down his chest. 

Steve felt his stomach churn and terror rise in the back of his throat.

He was no stranger to fear, but this was…

Steve lurched over to the shower and turned the water on as hot as it would go. The room instantly began to steam and he stripped off his sweatpants and stepped into the hot spray.

What if they weren’t just dreams? What if it really was the Queen communicating with him, not just his own subconscious creating horrifying images? What if it was a glimpse of the future?

His skin quickly turned pink and he scrubbed himself as if stripping the sweat off his skin would erase the taste of his blood from the Queen’s mouth.

Wherever she was, she was probably licking her lips in anticipation.

With a shudder Steve leaned his face against the tiles. His knees threatened to buckle but he held himself up. If he hit the ground here he’d never get back up.

Tears burned in his eyes.

He was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to be the “protector of the Earth” but right now, all he really wanted was someone to tell him everything was going to be okay.

Steve stood there a long time. Long enough that the water started to hurt as it hit his skin and when he emerged he felt raw. He wiped the steam from the mirror and he saw nothing but warm pink skin in his reflection. The wounds across his chest were gone, healed already or hidden by the burning hot water. Steve wondered for a moment if the bite mark had ever even been there at all.

Was he losing it? Was paranoia getting to him? Was the venom still affecting him?

Feeling like a caged animal, Steve went back to his bedroom in a towel and felt the steam dissipate around him into the cold. He pulled on a new pair of sweatpants and another t-shirt as if nothing was wrong. He sat down on his bed and felt the cool, damp spot where he’d sweat through his sheets and buried his face in his hands.

He was still shaking. The Chitauri were arriving tomorrow and he was sitting in his bed, shaking like a child because he had a nightmare.

What was he thinking? He couldn’t beat the Queen. He couldn’t even beat her in his own dreams, let alone in real life. Tomorrow she would find him, she’d suck the serum from his veins, and then she’d kill him.

Steve couldn’t take it anymore. As strong as he wanted to be, he just wasn’t. Not now.

He got up and got into the elevator before he could change his mind. He hit the button for the communal floor and silently shook as it took him down.

The common room was empty. Everyone was either resting or, in Tony’s case, probably tinkering with something complicated until sunrise.

Steve turned left down the corridor and came to a halt in front of Bucky’s room. There was no light coming from the crack at the bottom of the door and Steve wondered if Bucky was sleeping. He didn’t want to wake him, but he really wanted to see him.

It felt selfish, taking Bucky’s rest on the eve of what might be their last day alive. Steve didn’t want him to be tired for tomorrow or irritated at being woken up. Maybe he should just go back upstairs. But wasn’t Bucky the one who told him that he needed to learn how to ask for help? That it was okay to be a little selfish sometimes?

Steve stared at the blank door as arguments chased themselves around his head until, seemingly of its own accord, the door opened.

Steve startled as Bucky stared up at him.

His hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and his sweats and t-shirt were a little rumpled like he’d been in bed.

“I could hear you thinking through the door,” Bucky said with a raised eyebrow before taking in Steve’s appearance, “I— Steve, are you okay?”

All Steve managed to do was minutely shake his head before tears welled in his eyes.

“Shit, Stevie,” Bucky pulled him in and shut the door behind him before turning him around, “What happened?”

Steve couldn’t hold back any longer. He wrapped his arms around Bucky’s waist and buried his face in his shoulder, shaking as he gasped out one ragged breath after another.

Bucky quickly hugged him back. He ran his hands up and down Steve’s back and shushed him softly, keeping himself planted firm and steady for Steve to lean on.

“It’s okay,” Bucky whispered, “You’re okay. I got you.”

Bucky was so warm and solid in Steve’s arms. He was so real and visceral, Steve could cry. He already was, but they turned from tears of panic to tears of relief in Bucky’s grasp. His legs felt like jello but Bucky held him up as if his weight was nothing to bear.

“Sorry,” Steve gasped out through hitching breaths, “Sorry.”

“Got nothin’ to be sorry for,” Bucky replied easily.

“Didn’t wanna wake you.”

“You can wake me up whenever,” Bucky said, gripping the back of Steve’s neck, “I don’t mind.”

“Sorry,” Steve said again.

“It’s alright, really.”

Steve’s chest wasn’t constricting so tightly anymore and slowly but surely, his breaths evened out again.

“Overwhelmed?” Bucky asked softly.

Steve nodded against his shoulder.

Bucky’s thumb rubbed little circles at the nape of his neck and the motion was more soothing than Steve ever would have predicted.

“You wanna stay with me tonight?” Bucky suggested in a whisper, “We can make a pillow tent like we did when we were kids.”

Steve huffed out a breathy laugh at the memories of overheating in his sleeping bag inside a makeshift tent that was really just a blanket propped up by a stick and held in place with some pillows. Most nights, they would talk for hours until they fell asleep, feeling safe inside their little tent, and trying to see who could stay up the latest even if neither of them remembered who won in the morning.

“Okay,” he said in a small, rough voice. 

Bucky carefully pulled away, looking up at him with a worried smile before stepping away to the far side of the bed. Steve mirrored him on the other side and slipped under the duvet into the wide bed that was already warm from where Bucky had been lying before. He sank down into the sheets and Bucky’s familiar scent wrapped around him as he pulled the duvet up to his chin. Bucky curled up next to him and Steve reached out and found Bucky’s hand under the blankets. He held on tight as Bucky shifted closer until they lay face to face.

“So, I don’t have a stick or an extra blanket so just pretend there’s a tent, okay?”

Steve smiled and wiped his eyes again.

“Thanks, Buck.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Bucky said, reaching out a finger from their clasped hands to wipe the remnants of a tear from Steve’s chin.

“You’re here,” Steve replied, “That’s enough.”

Bucky leaned forward until their foreheads touched.

They lay in silence for a long time. Steve felt calmer here, in Bucky’s bed, than he had in weeks. It was like he’d been alone so long he hadn’t even realized how much he needed someone at his side until he had it. It wasn’t even their argument that had had the biggest impact on Steve; the simple fact of Bucky’s presence in his life had changed everything. Suddenly, Steve was grateful. So fucking grateful that Maria Hill had placed the Winter Solider’s file in his hands that day, almost exactly a year ago now. Of all the ways things could have gone, he got the one where Bucky was at his side. There wasn’t much more he could ask for.

Steve’s tears dried and he just looked at Bucky. His straight nose, the slope of his cheeks, the dimple on his chin, those blue eyes. Bucky’s skin was warm where they touched. Their clasped hands, the press of their foreheads, his knee against Steve’s thigh. 

It was peaceful and quiet in the dark. The only sound was their slow breaths and the almost inaudible slide of Bucky’s thumb rubbing little circles against the back of Steve’s hand as they looked at each other.

Steve could feel Bucky’s eyes roaming his face. He knew he had dark circles under his eyes from multiple nights of fitful sleep. His hair was a mess and his face was pale and worried. But still, he let Bucky see him. He hadn’t really been seen in a long time. It was nice, not to have a front up. To just be. As imperfect and fallible as he was. Just a man, not a hero. Just Steve. 

As Steve watched Bucky and Bucky watched him it dawned on him, not for the first time, that Bucky could be it for him. The first time he had that thought, he was thirteen and just about to have his first kiss. The hundredth time, he was fourteen and his Ma was telling him he couldn’t go to camp that year. The heartbreak he’d felt that day was real. 

Barely two weeks ago, Bucky had tried to rekindle that flame and Steve had said no. 

Now though, Steve knew for sure that if he didn’t fix that mistake he’d never forgive himself.

Slowly, he reached out with his free hand and tucked a stray lock of Bucky’s hair behind his ear.

“You scared?” Bucky asked breathlessly.

Steve swallowed.

Of this? He thought, Of tomorrow? Of you?

“Yeah.”

“Me too.”

Bucky’s hand squeezed his.

“But you know what, Steve Rogers?”

“What?”

“No matter what happens,” Bucky’s eyes slid shut, “I’m going to protect you.”

“Bucky—“

“I swear it,” he said, clasping Steve’s hand with both his own like he was praying, “No god in this universe could take you from me and no creature will lay hand on you as long as I’m around. If there’s any good I can do with my life, I’ll do it tomorrow.” 

Bucky brought their joined hands up and pressed his warm lips against Steve’s knuckles, “I’ll protect you. You’ll see.”

Bucky opened his eyes and in their cool blue depths Steve could see a resolve that no words would shake. He meant what he said whole heartedly and Steve couldn’t help but believe him.

“I don’t deserve you,” Steve whispered more to himself than to Bucky.

“You got it so backwards, Rogers,” Bucky scoffed, “I’m nothin’ next to you.”

“You’re everything, Buck.” Steve reached out and cupped Bucky’s cheek, “You’re everything I’ve ever—“

The words caught in his throat. It was too much. It was too real. It was too close to saying “I love you” and they hadn’t even... they weren’t even…

His eyes flicked to Bucky’s lips. They were barely an inch away. Bucky’s breath caught and he mirrored Steve’s gaze.

Oh, who was he kidding. If he didn’t kiss Bucky now he would regret it for the rest of his life.

Steve leaned in. He could feel Bucky’s sharp breath against his lips.

“Can I…?“ he whispered.

Bucky’s metal hand was suddenly against his chest holding him back.

“Don’t kiss me—”

Steve retreated instantly. A wide eyed apology was already at the tip of his tongue as Bucky’s next words came spilling out.

“—unless you _mean_ it.” Bucky’s eyes were fierce and his voice was on the verge of frustration, “Because if this is just you lookin’ for a quick fuck before the end of the world then I will kill you myself, Steve, I swear to god.”

“No, no, no” Steve cupped Bucky’s face with both hands, “Bucky, I would never. I couldn’t. Bucky, I—“

Steve took a steadying breath.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, “and I’m not just sayin’ that. I’ve wanted you since we were kids. I wanted you when you fell out of a tree trying to get my frisbee. I wanted you when our boat flipped over and we sat there just talking for ages. I wanted you when you offered me a ride in three different languages and when you walked out of that burning compound in Denmark.”

The hand against Steve’s chest turned into a fist that pulled him closer.

“I wanted you when I saw you fighting off Hydra’s army by yourself and when you asked me if that bakery in Brooklyn was still open. I wanted you when we were sparring and when I found out who you really were, god, Bucky I coulda’ flown that day if you asked me to—“

Suddenly, Steve was on his back. Bucky planted his knees on either side of Steve’s hips and their chests pressed together beneath the blankets. Steve cradled the back of Bucky’s head, tilted his face just so, and then Bucky’s lips were parting against his own.

Steve sighed into the kiss and felt Bucky’s replying moan vibrate through his chest. Steve tangled his fingers in Bucky’s long hair and kissed him again and again and again. He kissed Bucky the way he’d wanted to for weeks. The way he’d wanted to when he was fourteen and missing him so much it ached. Teeth nipped sharply at his and he gasped, pausing only to let Bucky explore his mouth with equal vigor. 

“Wanted you—“ Bucky gasped between kisses, “Wanted you since— _ah_ — since—“

Bucky caught Steve’s bottom lip with his teeth, biting down gently then kissing over the spot before slotting their mouths together once again.

Steve could only moan in agreement and kiss back as fiercely as he could.

“Do you remember—“ Bucky breathed, “do you remember the first time we— by the lake—“

“Yes,” Steve sighed, catching Bucky’s lips again, “How could I forget?”

He turned them over, pressing Bucky down into the mattress and tangling their fingers together again. He kissed Bucky’s lips, his cheeks, his forehead, the divot in his chin, the curve of his jaw, and the little scar across his cheekbone. After peppering Bucky’s face with kisses he returned to his lips and the now familiar warmth of his mouth. 

It was less desperate this time. Bucky held him there for a long moment before releasing him and then tipping his head up for one, two more, and pulling back to look up at him with bright, soft eyes.

For a moment they just panted against each other.

“Shoulda done that ages ago,” Bucky breathed, his voice thick and low.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed with a breathless laugh, “I needed a minute to get my head outta my ass though.”

“You do have a big head,” Bucky mused with a wry grin.

Steve grabbed the pillow he’d been lying on and whacked Bucky in the face with it. Bucky’s burst of laughter was loud and bright as he shoved Steve onto his back and dug his fingertips into Steve’s ticklish sides. Steve yelped and tried to escape the tangle of blankets but Bucky kept him pinned and smothered him in a tight embrace.

“Where d’ya think you’re goin’?” He drawled as he wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and let all his weight fall on Steve’s chest.

“Nowhere.” Steve wrapped his legs around Bucky’s hips and threw his arms around his neck.

“Good.”

Bucky lay his head down, his cheek resting against Steve’s collarbone. 

Steve pressed one last kiss against the crown of Bucky’s head and pulled the duvet up around them once again.

“No matter what happens tomorrow,” Steve whispered as they both settled down, their heartbeats slowing as the night drew on, “just know that I’m grateful. For your friendship, for your protection… for this.”

“I give it willingly,” Bucky whispered back.

“I know,” Steve ran a hand through his soft hair, “but still. Thank you.”

There was a pause.

“Thank me tomorrow, after we’ve won.”

Steve swallowed and stared up at the dark ceiling. His thoughts threatened to send him adrift once again but Bucky’s weight was an anchor that kept him tethered to the moment. It kept him grounded and gave him the confidence he hadn’t been able to find on his own.

“Okay,” he whispered to the darkness, “after we’ve won.”

* * *

The sun didn’t rise in the morning. A dull grey sky hung unmoving above the Avengers as they assembled in the small clearing between the skyscrapers that constituted Times Square. It wasn’t ideal terrain for a battle but the security cameras that littered the streets gave Tony an advantage that he shared with the rest of them. With eyes everywhere, they had a better shot of finding what they were looking for.

Above them, somewhere beyond the clouds, 14 ships were fast approaching so they gathered together in the middle of the road for one last check in before all hell broke loose.

“Five minutes,” Tony told them from inside his new Iron Man uniform, “looks like one of the smaller ships is coming in first.”

“Remember the plan,” Natasha said, her guns at the ready, “we have to protect Steve until the Queen shows herself. Otherwise the venom will render all our efforts useless.”

“And if that happens,” Clint said, saluting them all with a cheeky grin, “It’s been real, guys.”

“Clint,” Natasha groaned.

“Should we die today, tomorrow we shall feast together in the halls of Valhalla!” Thor boomed, throwing an arm around Clint’s shoulders and giving him a squeeze.

“Seriously, though, you guys are the best and if I die I want you all to know that, besides Nat, Bruce is my favorite,” Clint said, hugging Thor back.

“Really?” Bruce was on the verge of turning green when Clint’s words startled him back to himself.

“Yeah, dude,” Clint said with a grin, “You’re the man.”

“Wow,” Bruce rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, “Thanks, Clint. I know I don’t say it a lot but, uh, I love you guys.”

“Ugh, can we not do the tearful last words thing?” Tony groaned, “But if we must, then let it be known that Bruce is also my favorite.”

Bruce’s cheeks were properly red now.

“You guys annoy the hell out of me but I guess there’s no one less irritating I’d rather be here with,” Natasha said, lightly punching Tony’s metal shoulder.

“Agreed,” Sam said, tossing an arm around Natasha for a quick hug.

“I’ve lived too much of my life amongst enemies,” Bucky said softly, his rifle ready in his hands and his brow furrowed at the rest of them, “I would be grateful to die amongst friends.”

Even Clint’s smile turned more heartfelt at that.

Steve gripped Bucky’s shoulder and stepped forward, leading the group into a final huddle as their last minutes of peace trickled away.

“It’s almost time,” he said.

All eight of their heads came together in the center of the huddle, arms around each other as Steve took a fortifying breath.

“We’re not just fighting for our lives, but for the lives of every living thing on this planet, and we’re going to win. Not because we’re the strongest or the smartest, but because this is our home and there’s no one who can take it away from us. Remember: we are the world's first line of defense, not the last. Those are Bruces’ words and he was right. Even if we fall today I refuse to believe that that’s the end for the rest of the world. There's always someone else. There’s always someone willing to do the dirty work and make the hard choices. There will always be heroes and if one of us falls, there will always be someone with a good heart and a strong will to pick up where we left off and carry us further into the future. So, no matter what happens, we will win. I learned that from you guys.”

Steve tilted his head against Bucky’s and saw pride in his eyes.

“Just be careful and look out for each other.” Steve looked over his team one more time and he smiled, “I’ll see you on the other side.”

The huddle morphed into a group hug as everyone took one last moment together before pulling away. As they did, Steve reached out and patted the side of Tony’s helmet.

“Thanks for letting me feel useful, Stark.”

There was a scoff from within but Steve swore he heard a small sniff too.

“Happy to give a guy an ego boost, Cap.”

Steve smiled and pulled his shield off his holster.

“Time?”

“One minute,” Stark replied looking up to the skies.

“Wilson, Stark, get up there,” Steve said, “Bruce, it’s time.”

Sam’s wings unfolded and Stark rocketed skywards. Next to him, Bruce began to morph and shift. The uniform Tony had designed for him stretched and grew as Bruce did. Bruce’s skin rippled with muscle as the low growl of the Hulk echoed up the empty streets.

Overhead, the clouds began to swirl.

One more fight, Steve thought to himself, one more fight and then I’ll get to go home.

Finally.

* * *

Steve choked against the asphalt. Smoke was thick around him as the rubble burned. He staggered to his feet and stumbled back.

“Clint!” He yelled, his voice hoarse, “Clint!”

 _“I’m okay,”_ came the shaky reply, _“I got thrown. Stark, I need a lift back up.”_

 _“On it,”_ Tony replied through the coms.

Steve breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of their voices and quickly clambered out of the pit of the once tall building and got back up to street level.

 _“Got fifteen on 6th and another two dozen on 51st,”_ Sam reported, _“These fuckers are even hardier than the last bunch.”_

“Just keep out of range until the Queen appears,” Steve ordered, “I think they’re clearing the way for her.”

 _“It’s happening!”_ Natasha’s voice suddenly called, _“I can see the ship descending!”_

Steve looked up. A vast black shape had broken through the cloud layer. Its center was a few blocks north, closer to Avengers Tower than Steve was. A pit settled in Steve’s stomach. 

In his dreams, the Queen always killed him at the base of the Tower.

“She’s going to land near the Tower,” Steve shook his head, “We need to lure her away from it.”

 _“Why?”_ Tony asked, his voice strained as Steve heard rockets explode a block east.

“Just—“ Steve cut off, two Chitauri appeared at the end of the street, and with a growl, darted towards him.

He knocked the first one away with a grunt, slamming it into an abandoned van parked on the side of the road. He punched the second in the face, it reeled back and then snarled, swiping at him with its long mechanical talons. The metal screeched against his shield as the first Chitauri got back on its feet and sliced across the back of Steve’s leg. The second got him across the face. Blood dripped down his forehead as he rolled under the van and out the other side before taking off down the street, running away from the Tower. The pounding of metal feet chased him and he darted between two buildings, scaled the wall to the sloped roof and got a better lay of the land. 

He could see three ships through the scattering clouds. The biggest was now hovering directly over Avengers Tower. A fleet of smaller pods descended from it, each big enough for at least five Chitauri. 

There was a snarl behind him and he turned just time to see the two Chitauri scuttle onto the roof in search of him.

 _“Don’t move, Stevie”_ Bucky’s low voice whispered in his ear, _“I got you.”_

Steve swallowed and stood perfectly still as the aliens raced towards him. Venom splashed and hissed across the roof from their slick mouths and their sharp hands tore up the tiles as they ran. 

Steve held his ground. 

Two shots rang out. The Chitauri stumbled back as the bullets hit them both right between the plates of their helmets and dug deep into their eye sockets. Steve turned and ran just as the electro-pulses from Bucky’s modified gun shocked their bionic bodies with stunning electricity.

Steve leapt off the roof and tumbled back down onto street level, rolling once before getting his feet back under him and sprinting to the next intersection.

“Thanks, Buck,” he panted as he ran.

 _“The Queen’s landed,”_ Sam interrupted, _“God, she’s hideous. She’s at the base of the Tower, just standing there.”_

 _“Should we attack?”_ Tony asked, grunting a little as he fought.

“Yes!” Steve shouted, “Drive her away from the Tower!”

 _“On it, Cap,”_ Tony, Clint, and Nat replied in unison.

Hulk just roared.

Steve turned another corner and was hit right in the chest by a large flying object. As he gasped air back into his lungs his fingers caught on the ridges of an alien pod as it slammed him into the side of a building. He felt concrete shatter around him as the pod pulled back and split open with a mesmerizing twist of its thousands of facets. A snarl and a wet tongue lashed out at him as he ducked out of the way. Claws snatched at his shoulder and he heard the fabric of his uniform tear. Steve prayed that Tony’s prototype suit was holding up as the Chitauri grabbed him by the arm and the pod began to ascend.

“Fuck!”

In a split second, the city was a sprawling grid beneath him. Despite the massive drop, Steve hacked at the Chitauri’s grip on his arm with the edge of his shield. He punched against the metal fingers again and again, he felt the sharp talons tighten their grip as the Tower, now smoking from the group’s assault, loomed closer and closer.

“Sam!” Steve yelled, “Sam, I’m in the air!”

 _“Shit, I see you!”_ Sam called back, _“I’m coming!”_

Steve struggled as much as he could until familiar wings appeared in his periphery.

Sam aimed for the Chitauri, slamming into them and sending the pod tumbling out of trajectory. The pod rolled and the Chitauri tumbled out.

Steve was falling. He felt Sam’s hands scrabble at his flailing arms and suddenly the air was forced from his lungs as something slammed into him from the side. 

_“Steve!”_

The angular facets of the pod closed around Steve’s body and the world fell silent as it trapped him inside. The inside of the pod was dark and cramped. The few dull lights of the control mechanisms only showed the outlines of weird tubular structures and strange protrusions. Steve pushed against the walls around him but they didn’t budge.

“Sam?” He called, tapping his com, “Sam? Bucky? Can anyone hear me? I’m trapped inside one of the pods!”

No reply. 

Shit.

Steve tapped the little lights on the side. He searched for buttons or joysticks, anything, but nothing reacted to his touch. Unable to escape, Steve readied himself. The pod was definitely taking him to the Queen and he had to be ready when he got there.

Steve gripped his shield in his hand and tried to calm his racing heart.

Before Steve had a chance to ready himself any more than that, he pod lurched forward and opened in a smooth motion. Steve fell and hit pavement. He leapt to his feet and stared up at the huge, horned face of the Queen. She was more gruesome in person than she had been in Steve’s dreams. Her flat, insectoid face twitched and dripped with venom. Her four beady eyes locked him as he stood, trapped between the flaming, scorched base of the tower and the hundreds of silent Chitauri standing behind him.

This was it. Whatever Steve was going to do, he had to do it now.

Venom splattered onto the pavement and hissed as it burned through the concrete. The Queen’s twisted smile sent waves of fear through him but he held his ground. 

The Queen snarled and reared back.

Steve readied his shield and the first strike of her talon twanged against the vibranium. Steve rolled to the side and ducked between two pointed legs before slicing out at her with the edge of his shield. It left no mark and elicited no reaction against the hard shell-like armor that covered her body. With a hiss, the Queen licked her lips and swung again, this time catching him in the side and he tumbled, rolling quickly to get his feet back under him but the Queen was as quick as he was. She knocked his shield to the side and jabbed out once, twice, with her talons. The first pierced the concrete, splitting it, as Steve dodged, and the second got him straight through the ankle. 

Steve gasped sharply as the bones in his foot shattered and bit back a scream as the Queen pulled her sharp talon back out. Blood soaked the inside of his boot and gushed across the pavement as he quickly dragged himself backwards, shield at the ready. He forced himself back up, trying not to step on his injured foot as he used the side of the Tower for support.

Images from his nightmares flashed before him, but for all the similarities to his dreams, there was one thing they hadn’t taken account of.

Hulk’s roar echoed across the silence somewhere up the street. Steve couldn’t see him, but he could hear the pounding of his fists against the swarm of Chitauri.

“Hulk!” Steve called out but before anyone could reply the Queen came at him again, face first this time. 

Steve punched, using the rim of his shield to crack one of her horns while her teeth sank into his forearm. Steve yelped and pulled back, his uniform tearing under her sharp teeth, revealing the black suit Tony had given him the day before. Its black surface was still in one piece though Steve could see the scrapes her teeth had left across it and a sizzle as venom ate at the fabric.

As Steve dodged, he heard a booming crack of thunder and a flash far to his left. Thor was somewhere beyond the sea of silent Chitauri. 

“Steve!” Steve looked up and saw Natasha, barely a hundred feet away, struggling to fight off three Chitauri blocking her path to him.

Two of her Widow’s Bites shot out towards them and stuck into the Queen’s hard outer shell. She twitched, momentarily frozen and Steve rammed the side of his shield into her face, shattering her right horn. With a jerk, the Queen fought through the stun, knocked Steve onto his back, his shield skittering across the pavement out of reach, and raised her taloned legs again.

Steve couldn’t run as she came down at him.

The Queen’s talon split the pavement to his right. 

Above, he saw Tony racing towards him, only to be hit by half a dozen pods, sending him careening off somewhere beyond the distant skyscrapers.

The Queens second talon sliced down directly to his left.

He saw Sam falling from the sky, one useless wing fluttering behind him.

Steve rolled over and, directly above him, the Queen grinned.

Her third talon stabbed through his left shoulder. Steve felt Tony’s prototype suit rip against his skin and he barely had time to suck in a ragged breath before she lifted him up and slammed him back down.

His ears rang and his vision swam as another talon pierced through his stomach. The next stab punctured his right lung. 

Steve blinked away black dots swarming across vision and lurched forward as the Queen lifted him up and pinned against the side of the Tower. The talon in his chest dug into the stone behind him and he clutched at it as he stared into those black, soulless eyes.

The Queen licked her lips, her thick barbed tongue splashing venom across Steve’s torn uniform as she leaned in.

Steve summoned what little strength he had left and kicked out with his good foot, catching her in the side of the mouth. The Queen’s grin turned sharp and Steve knew she would enjoy killing him.

“The Earth will never be yours,” he hissed with all his conviction.

The Queen’s head cocked and with a snarl, the talon buried in his chest twisted.

With what little air Steve still had in his lungs, he screamed. 

The Queen’s grin widened and her teeth flashed but before they could sink into Steve’s wounded flesh, a metal arm surged forward. 

The Queen reared back. Steve hit the ground and felt his own blood splatter around him as the Queen scuttled back. Bucky had her by the stump of her horn, vibranium knife in one hand and Steve’s shield in the other. He slammed the shield across her face and stabbed out with his knife, getting her right in the eye. The Queen screeched and flailed, knocking Bucky off and scrubbing her talons across her own face in pain. Bucky quickly got back on his feet and slashed at one of her legs. The Queen roared and darted forwards.

A second scream ripped itself from Steve’s throat as he watched the Queen’s talon shoot out the back of Bucky’s right shoulder.

The Queen’s mouth opened and her fangs gleamed as she made to bite down on Bucky’s fragile torso.

In one deft movement, the blade flipped from Bucky’s right hand to his left and he shoved his metal fist down the Queen’s venomous maw.

The Queen’s eyes went wide as she retched and her razor sharp legs scrabbled against the pavement. The hundreds of watching Chitauri suddenly surged forward. Feet pounded against Steve’s broken body as they raced towards her but Steve could see the tip of Bucky’s blade poking out the top of the Queen’s armored head.

Screeches and broken snarls suddenly filled the air as the Chitauri reeled back. They scuttled in an uncoordinated swarm. Running, climbing, some simply falling where they stood, as the hive-mind collapsed and the broad Chitauri soldiers were, for the first time, left to their own devices. The courtyard cleared, leaving only splatters of blood and venom in their wake as pods lifted off and the dark ships above began to retreat back into the clouds.

Huddled against the Tower, Steve looked up. The Queen lay collapsed on the pavement. Her long sharp legs splayed out, twitching as she died. Her grey face oozed dark blood as her thick, venomous tongue hissed against the asphalt.

Standing before the Queen’s broken body, blade in one hand and Steve’s shield in the other, Bucky watched the Chitauri army retreat. He was splattered with dark Chitauri blood as well as his own and his metal arm was smoking and dripping with yellow venom. 

“Buck,” Steve breathed, “I think you just saved the world.”

Bucky turned. The shield gleamed on his arm and up above, the first rays of sunlight shone through the clouds and Bucky Barnes stood, victorious and resplendent, in a glowing sunbeam.

“I didn’t do it for the world.”

With a clang, Steve’s shield hit the ground. The knife clattered somewhere in the rubble and Bucky fell to his knees as he crouched over Steve and pressed against his bleeding chest while panic crept across his face.

“The prophecy,” Steve breathed, reaching up and brushing strands of long hair out of Bucky’s face, “It was all about you.”

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky turned away from him and shouted over his shoulder, “He needs a medic, hurry!”

“You saved me.”

With the last of his strength, Steve sat up and cupped Bucky’s cheek. The last thing he felt was Bucky’s soft, bloody lips against his own and the warmth of a little gasp against his skin. Steve’s eyes closed and he knew that, no matter what happened, Bucky would be there to protect him.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve blinked the sunlight out of his eyes as he stared across the lake. The water glittered and the gentle splash of waves on the rocky shore harmonized with the rustling of the forest behind him and the chirping of unseen birds. 

It was quiet. 

Peaceful. 

Steve stood with his bare feet pressed against the sun-warmed rocks and smiled. 

“Steve!”

Steve turned. On a narrow wooden dock, Bucky sat with his toes in the water. His long hair was tied at the back of his head and his loose t-shirt fluttered in the breeze as he waved.

Steve’s heart swelled.

“Come over here!” Bucky called, “I bet I can skip stones farther than you!”

Steve laughed and ran across the rocks to join him.

* * *

Steve sucked in a ragged breath. His throat burned and his whole body ached. He groaned and twisted, trying to stretch. He was lying on something soft. His skin tugged uncomfortably.

“Whoa, hey,” a hand held him down, “Don’t move, Steve.”

Steve pried his eyes open. His eyelids were heavy and he blinked against the hard lights above him.

“You’re in the infirmary,” Natasha’s voice said gently.

Of course, where else would he be?

“Did we win?” Steve forced out.

His voice was barely a wheeze as his eyes adjusted and he found the outline of Natasha sitting at his side. A cup of lukewarm water touched his lips and he drank it down greedily.

“Yeah,” Natasha said with a smile as she took the cup away, “yeah, we won.”

Steve sighed and leaned back against his pillows with a groan.

Memories came tricking back as he stared at the fleet of machines around him.

“Bucky,” he said suddenly.

Natasha’s hands were on him before he could even try bolting upright.

“He’s okay,” Natasha interjected, “he’s— he’s in surgery right now, but he’s fine.”

“Surgery?” Panic rose in Steve’s chest, “Why? What happened?”

“It was the venom,” Natasha told him, “It’s corrosive and it ate away at his metal arm. His body is mostly fine but the arm needs to be replaced.”

“But he’s…” Steve swallowed while his sluggish brain struggled to process Natasha’s words, “but he’s alright?”

“He heals almost as quick as you,” Natasha said with a gentle smile, “Relax, Steve. He’s in good hands. Tony made him a new arm and Barnes seemed excited to be rid of the one Hydra gave him.”

“Tony made him…” Steve’s brow furrowed, “God, how long was I out?”

“Few days,” Natasha said, rubbing his arm, “they really beat the shit out of you.”

“Better than the alternative,” Steve groaned, looking down at the swaths of bandages across his chest, “Everyone else? I saw Sam fall.”

“Broke his leg,” Natasha told him with a cringe, “Tony broke a couple rips, Bruce is fine, Thor’s fine too, and Clint sprained his wrist but you’d think he got his whole arm amputated the way he goes on about it. Besides that, just a few stabs and scratches. Nothing that won’t heal.”

“What about you?” Steve asked, trying to see beneath her bomber jacket for the telltale bulk of bandages.

“Fine,” she said dismissively, “the talons got me a few times but I can handle it.”

“Nat.”

“I didn’t even lose consciousness,” she insisted, “unlike someone.”

She eyed him for a minute and Steve felt a blush creeping up his face.

“Was it the pain or is Barnes just that good of a kisser?”

Steve folded his arms on his sore chest and pouted up at the ceiling petulantly.

“It’s rude to interrogate someone who’s just woken up,” he told her.

“Oh, come on,” Natasha grinned, “the last two months have been hell. Give me some good news, please.”

Steve sighed but he couldn’t hold back the smile that was growing on his face.

“Well, I might have…” he fidgeted with his blanket, “The night before the fight, I might have…”

Natasha’s jaw dropped.

“You guys pre-fight boned?” She gasped delightedly, “Oh my god, Steve!”

“Wait, no—“

“I knew you were into him but _damn—”_

“We didn’t do it!” Steve interrupted emphatically, “We just made out a bit and I spent the night, that’s all!”

“I wouldn’t judge if you did—“

“We _didn’t!”_

“Okay, okay,” Natasha raised her hands in defeat with a little laugh, “did you at least feel him up a little bit?”

“A little bit,” Steve admitted with a small, private smile.

“You got it bad, Rogers,” Natasha observed, shaking her head at him with a smile, “I can’t believe you turned him down.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Steve cringed at the memory, “at least you came along to slap some sense into me.”

“You’re welcome,” Natasha replied brightly, “I fully expect you to ask me to be your best man at the wedding, just a heads up.”

Steve choked on nothing.

“Nat!”

“What? I’m just thinking ahead.”

“We’re barely even a couple.”

“Yeah, but you’re an all or nothing kinda guy,” Natasha shrugged, “You never do anything halfway.”

Steve huffed. She wasn’t wrong.

“Besides,” Natasha’s grin turned teasing, “after your boy saved the day I took another look at that prophecy.”

Steve groaned.

“Spare me the analysis.”

“I will not,” she replied gleefully, _“‘There will come a day when the Stars bleed and the cold breath of Darkness falls heavy on the planet Earth’_ now I’m pretty sure that the ‘stars bleeding’ line is about you.”

Steve just grunted in response.

 _“‘When the Eternal Night comes and the Stones of Victory weep tears of blood, a Hero will emerge from amongst them,’”_ she recited, “the hero is definitely Barnes, and the ‘stones of victory’ are Avengers Tower, which Tony built as a monument to our achievements as a team.”

“Yes, yes, I get it,” Steve grumbled.

“I haven’t even got to the good part yet,” Natasha replied gleefully, _“‘Forged from Innocence and Blessed with Strength, the Soldier with Starlight in his heart will raise a Shield of hope against the coming Storm.’”_

Steve’s heart fluttered and Natasha definitely didn’t miss the blip in the heart monitor.

“Barnes joined STRIKE for noble reasons,” she said, “and was given the serum, same as you. He probably wouldn’t call it a blessing but then, you wouldn’t either. But it’s the next bit that intrigues me.”

Steve avoided her gaze as she grinned at him.

 _“‘The Soldier with Starlight in his heart,’”_ she repeated.

“I get it,” Steve groaned.

“And if you’ve previously been referred to as a ‘star.’”

“You don’t need to explain.”

“And ‘the soldier’ is Barnes.”

“Uh huh.”

“And his heart is full of ‘starlight,’” Natasha wiggled her eyebrows.

Steve covered his burning face with his hands.

“He killed those aliens with the power of _love!”_ She crooned gleefully, “How romantic!”

“Stop,” Steve groaned, even as his lips pulled into an uncontrollable smile.

“I’m just saying,” Natasha replied with a laugh, “if you don’t marry that boy, I’ll be very surprised.”

He would be too, Steve realized with a start. He couldn’t see into the future or predict how things would go from here but he knew that he would do everything in his power to keep Bucky by his side and, like Natasha said, he didn’t do things halfway.

“I should tell you,” Natasha said, her tone turning more serious again, “the world knows what happened. They know that Barnes was the one who saved them and he’s been officially pardoned of all crimes on the basis that he was mind controlled. He’s being lauded as a hero.”

“Good,” Steve smiled, “he deserves it, after everything he’s been through.”

“The down side,” Natasha continued, “is that he’s famous now. They want him around doing interviews and fighting crime. Fury even suggested he officially join the Avengers.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up.

“And what did Bucky say to that?”

Natasha grinned.

“He laughed in Fury’s face.”

“That sounds like Bucky,” Steve laughed, “No one can make him do anything he doesn’t want to.”

“I know,” Natasha agreed, “but I doubt people will stop asking for a long time.”

Steve sighed.

“It’s the price of heroism, I suppose,” he said, “at least they’re seeing him for what he’s done and not for what he was forced to do.”

Natasha hummed in agreement.

“Speaking of,” she leaned back in her chair and her eyes turned sharp, “the battles over, the world is safe, you’ve got your boy. What’s next for you?”

It was a leading question. Steve watched the line on the heart monitor next to him jump a few times as he gathered his thoughts.

He hated waking up in the infirmary after every other mission, he hated the violence and the pain, both received and inflicted, and he hated the uncertainty of his own lifespan that kept him from planning more than a few days in advance. 

And if he could plan ahead? What would he do?

Steve closed his eyes.

He imagined a house. No, a brownstone in Brooklyn. He imagined taking trips to a lake surrounded by forest. He saw himself sketching with his back to a tree, in the reading nook of a living room, on a bench at the edge of Central Park.

He imagined Bucky, eyes bright and joyful, sitting beside him.

“I’m…” Steve took a breath, “I’m done here.”

In his periphery, he saw Natasha’s eyes go wide.

“Really?” She asked, a little awed.

“Yeah,” Steve breathed, “I’m done.”

A weight heavier than Steve would have thought possible lifted off his shoulders. Tears of relief sprung to his eyes as he breathed deep for what felt like the first time in years.

There was a caveat to his statement. Steve knew that despite everything, there would always be a caveat. One that he prayed would be respected.

“Hydra is all but gone,” he said in a whisper, “the Chitauri won’t be back anytime soon, and Thor will make sure the rest of the universe knows that Earth isn’t up for grabs but if something happens… I won’t ignore a call for help from you or any of the others. I trust you guys to protect the world without me but if you truly need me, I’ll be there. Just understand that I… that I want to be done.”

Natasha sat down on the edge of his bed and wrapped him in a gentle embrace.

“I’m really proud of you,” she whispered against his cheek, “I swear, we won’t ask you to come back unless there is no other option. I will personally fight anyone who tries to do otherwise.”

Steve wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her back.

“Thank you,” he whispered into her hair, “for everything.”

Natasha shook her head.

“You have nothing to thank me for,” she muttered.

“Agree to disagree,” Steve replied softly as she pulled back, “and Nat?”

Steve could see the hint of tears forming in her eyes and he took her hand.

“I know you’re still atoning,” he said carefully, “but promise me one thing?”

Her schooled expression flickered at his words but she nodded once.

“Be gentle with yourself.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she ducked her head.

“You and Clint can come join me in retirement one day,” Steve added, wiping her tears away with his thumb.

Steve didn’t expect much reply, but to his surprise, Natasha nodded.

“We’ll be your most obnoxious neighbors,” she whispered shakily.

Steve’s smile was genuine when he replied.

“I can’t wait.”

Natasha roughly brushed away her tears and gave him a baleful look.

“You know I hate crying, Rogers.”

“Sorry,” Steve laughed, “It was an accident, I promise.”

She sniffed and kicked at the leg of her chair.

“It’s gonna be weird not seeing you throw that dumb frisbee around in the field,” she admitted, “It’s such a stupid weapon.”

“Actually,” Steve replied with a thoughtful look, “I was thinking Sam might like it.”

Natasha blinked at him for a moment, then a small smile crept up her face.

“Yeah, I think he would.”

* * *

It was another day before Steve’s body had healed enough that he could walk. Dr. Cho had given him firm instructions to remain in bed for at least another twelve hours but they both knew he wouldn’t obey them.

That evening, when the infirmary was quiet and still, Steve slipped out of bed. He undid the monitors hooked up to his chest and rolled his IV stand alongside him as he hobbled out of his room with a crutch he stole from one of the cabinets.

It only took a few minutes for Steve to figure out which room was Bucky’s and quietly sneak in.

There was one dim light on inside and the dull beeping and humming of machines covered the sounds of Steve’s uneven footsteps as he sat down next to the bed.

Bucky’s eyes were closed. A few scratches were still healing on his forehead but he looked mostly unharmed. The only difference was the arm attached to his left shoulder.

The new prosthetic was darker than his old arm. The plates were smoother and more elegant as they articulated the curve of Bucky’s bicep and the delicate twist of his wrist. Steve recognized Tony’s handiwork in the articulation of the fingers and the soft curve of the elbow. It was beautiful and matched its owner effortlessly.

When Steve glanced back up from examining the prosthetic he found blue eyes watching him through the dim light.

“Hey,” Steve whispered, matching Bucky’s soft smile.

“Hey, yourself,” Bucky replied softly, “last I saw you, you were bleeding out all over Dr. Cho.”

“I’m sure she won’t miss me when I’m gone,” Steve chuckled.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him curiously. Steve smiled.

“You completed my mission.”

Bucky’s lips stretched into a smile.

“I did, didn’t I.” He looked up at the ceiling and shook his head, “I was so insistent that the prophecy wasn’t true that I accidentally fulfilled it myself.”

“And saved my life in the process,” Steve added.

Bucky’s eyes met his and Steve hoped he could feel his gratitude.

“I told you I’d protect you.”

Steve reached out and squeezed Bucky’s hand.

“Thank you,” Steve whispered, lifting Bucky’s hand to kiss his knuckles, “God, Bucky, you did more than just save the world, you—“

“I told you,” Bucky sat up and tilted Steve’s head up to meet his eyes, “I didn’t do it for the world.”

His eyes burned into Steve’s.

“I did it for you.” He tipped their foreheads together, “and I’d do it a thousand times over if that’s what it took.”

“You won’t have to,” Steve replied, his voice thick as his nose brushed Bucky’s, “That was my last mission. You were right, I don’t want this life anymore. I’m done.”

“I could tell,” Bucky cupped both sides of Steve’s face, “that speech you gave… I could tell.”

“It’s because of you,” he whispered against Bucky’s lips, “If you hadn’t confronted me like that I never would have made it here.”

“Will it be enough for you?” Bucky asked, his brow furrowed, “A life away from the fight… will it be enough?”

Steve thought for a moment.

“It might take some getting used to,” he admitted, “I’ll probably still feel guilty when I hear about a mission I missed but if I find some more of those things that actually make me happy, I think I’ll be okay.”

“Oh, yeah?” The furrow in Bucky’s brow dissipated, “Any ideas so far?”

“Well,” Steve smiled, “I’m going to put my art degree to use.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll probably move back over to Brooklyn.”

“Uh huh?”

“Might ask out this cute guy I know.”

“Oh, really?” Bucky bit back his smile.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, eyes drifting across Bucky’s beautiful face “What about you? What are you going to do now?”

“Well, I’m a free man,” Bucky said with a grin, “and I’m not going to waste it.”

Steve could feel the dopey smile on his face but did nothing to quell it.

“Oh?”

“I’m going to study astrophysics at whatever college that will take me.”

“I’m sure Tony and Bruce could write you some killer recommendation letters,” Steve replied.

“I’ve already got my eye on this little place in Park Slope.”

“Yeah?”

“Might go out with this dumbass who rejected me.”

Steve groaned and fell back in his seat while Bucky laughed at him.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?” He moaned, covering his face with both hands.

“Nope,” Bucky replied gleefully, “you made me deal with rejection so now you get to feel my wrath, Rogers.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve lamented, falling forward to bury his face in the blankets next to Bucky’s hip, “I was trying to be noble or whatever.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Bucky chuckled.

His fingers ran through Steve’s hair and down the back of his neck.

“You’re so stupid,” he mused fondly as he stroked Steve’s hair.

“I resent that,” Steve grumbled into the blankets.

“Just a big dummy,” he said sweetly.

“You know what, Barnes,” Steve sat up with a petulant pout.

“Sorry, sorry,” Bucky laughed, bright and loud, “I’m just teasing. It’s just that I’ve been sweet on you since I was ten.”

Steve blinked at him.

“Since then?” He asked breathlessly.

Bucky smiled shyly.

“Yeah,” he chuckled to himself, “I still remember how you kicked Tanner in the shin so hard he had a bruise for the rest of the month.”

“My flailing elbows really did it for you, huh?” Steve asked with a snort.

“Yeah, kind of,” Bucky replied genuinely, “I thought you were the most amazing person I’d ever met. You got me like no one else had.”

Steve ducked his head.

“I felt the same,” he admitted quietly, “I thought about you all the time.”

“You were my first kiss,” Bucky whispered.

Steve looked up, his smile widening.

“I remember it so vividly,” Bucky continued softly, “It was the third year, the last night. We were out after curfew, out by the far end of the lake. Samantha O’Conner invited me to go play spin the bottle with the girls in her cabin but I didn’t go.”

“I remember,” Steve said softly.

“I hadn’t really figured out why the thought of kissing someone other than you weirded me out so much but it did,” Bucky said, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he lost himself in the memory, “but for the whole evening I was just sitting there thinking about spin the bottle, about kissing, about you…”

He trailed off and looked at Steve again.

“You went looking for rocks and you kept coming back to shore to show me the ones you found. Every single time you’d have this big smile on your face and you’d point out whatever it was about this rock that you liked and I just—“

Bucky cut himself off with a sigh and his eyes flickered down to Steve’s lips.

“I wanted to kiss you so bad,” Bucky whispered.

“And then we did,” Steve finished for him with a soft smile.

“Just thinkin’ about it after made my knees weak,” Bucky replied with a laugh, “I wasn’t even sure how you got the courage to do it in the first place.”

“I’m glad I did,” Steve said, taking Bucky’s hand in his, “it was my first kiss too.”

Their eyes met again and it was the easiest thing in the world for Steve to just tip his face up in invitation. The smile on Bucky’s face was blinding and it didn’t fade even as their lips touched just as innocently as it had all those years ago.

Bucky’s metal fingers gently held Steve’s chin in place even after the kiss ended and he pulled back.

“So, point being,” Bucky said suddenly, “I was really crushed when you rejected me.”

Steve felt like he was melting into a puddle of guilt and regret as he buried his groan in the blankets once again.

“I’m sorry,” Steve dragged out the word as it faded into another groan, “I was being… stupid.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Bucky asked brightly.

“I was being stupid,” Steve repeated loudly.

“Yeah, you were,” Bucky said.

Steve could hear the laughter in his voice but it didn’t quell the ache in his heart knowing how upset he would have been if their places were exchanged.

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he said, sitting up and squaring himself determinedly, “I’m gonna treat you so fucking good, Bucky. You won’t regret givin’ me a second chance, I swear to god.”

Bucky blinked at him in surprise.

“That’s sweet,” Bucky laughed, “but really, I was only teasin’ you—“

“Nu uh,” Steve shook his head, stood, and took Bucky’s face in his hands, “Just you wait, James Barnes. You saved the world, you saved my life, and now I’m gonna love you like no one ever has before.”

With that, Steve surged forward and sealed their lips together. He gripped the back of Bucky’s neck and licked into his mouth with a smooth roll. He felt Bucky moan against him as he fell back against the pillows. Steve kissed him like nothing else in the world mattered because nothing else did. He kissed Bucky hard and deep, with every fiber of his being focused on the single object of pouring every ounce of his adoration against Bucky’s lips.

Steve pulled back when Bucky’s breath hitched and what he saw sent a spike of heat straight down his spine.

Bucky’s lips were red and slick. His cheeks were flushed a deep red and his eyes fluttered as he sucked in a breath. It took a moment for Bucky to focus on Steve and when he did, he looked dazed.

“Wow,” Bucky muttered, licking Steve’s taste off his lips, “Fuck. Yeah, okay.”

Steve laughed.

“Good?” He asked.

“So good,” Bucky replied, hooking his hands around the back of Steve’s neck, “You should do it again.”

So he did. He kissed Bucky like he only had one chance to get it right. Like he’d never kiss him again, even though he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would kiss him at least a dozen more times before night ended. He kissed Bucky even as the rows of stitches across his torso tugged his skin and the bruises along his stomach flared when he leaned over the railing of the bed. He kissed Bucky through the little hiss of pain he couldn’t hold back and still reached for him even as Bucky pushed them apart.

“You’re hurt,” Bucky whispered in a pant.

His breathing was coming hard, the faint blush across his cheeks had spread, and his eyes were still lidded even as he pushed Steve away.

“I’m fine,” Steve insisted, leaning in for another kiss.

“No,” Bucky caught him by the chin, but still pressed his lips against Steve’s cheek, “Didn’t you just learn some sort of life lesson about pushing yourself too hard?”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Bucky patted his cheek smugly, “go back to bed, Steve. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“One more before I go,” Steve insisted, biting his lip and watching Bucky’s gaze helplessly track the motion.

A smile flickered on Bucky’s lips and he carefully pressed their lips together one last time.

* * *

The news of Steve’s retirement from the Avengers went over better than he expected. The team had, in one way or another, expected it. They were happy for him and Steve could even see glimmers of consideration on some of their faces when he told them the news. Steve hoped they all would follow in his footsteps one day.

Sam received Steve’s shield with wide eyes and a determined grip. He would carry it well, Steve was sure, and when the time was right, he would hand it down to another. 

Steve gave himself a month to get out of the Tower. He wanted to stick around for a little bit just to make sure the structure of the team would re-form around his absence and so that he could teach Sam to use the shield. In the meantime he perused house listings from Ridgewood to Gravesend, dusted off his old art supplies, and began packing up his meager belongings.

“You’re not just going to move in with Barnes?” Natasha asked as she munched on the few remaining snacks in Steve’s empty kitchen.

“I mean,” Steve swirled the tip of his brush in a mixture of cobalt blue and viridian green, “what we have is pretty new and I’ve never really lived a fully independent life before. I want to make sure I can stand on my own before I settle down with someone.”

He dabbed the paint across his canvas. It was a stiff, slightly wonky painting of the view from his apartment window. It was his first try after nearly five years so Steve figured it would be shit but he didn’t care. It felt so good to be sitting there examining the view, breaking it down into shapes and pigments, and replicating them on the little canvas he’d dug out from under his bed. 

“Hm,” Natasha mused with a smile, “Taking things slow?”

“Yeah,” Steve smiled as he mixed a new color on his glass palette, “his place is real nice though. I guess being the savior of the Earth comes with it’s perks.”

“You been there?” Natasha asked, popping a grape into her mouth.

“Not yet,” he said, squinting out the window, “he wanted a few days to set the place up, but he said I should come see it tonight.”

“I’m sure it’ll be a lovely housewarming,” Natasha said suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

Steve rolled his eyes but his cheeks flushed anyway.

Bucky had asked him to come by late tonight. Later than their usual dinner dates and they’d been on plenty of those since the battle. They’d gone to the park, the MoMA, Coney Island, and a dozen restaurants in the past two weeks but Bucky had kept his apartment secret, save a few pictures, until today. Steve had accompanied him to furniture stores, half helping him pick things out and half looking for himself, and had overseen the return of Bucky’s stuff from SHIELD’s evidence hold personally. Bucky had politely refused Steve’s offer to help him move things in with the excuse that they’d lose focus the second his new mattress arrived. He wasn’t wrong, Steve was dying to get his hands on Bucky’s skin, but Bucky insisted that they wait until his bed frame arrived because, “I’m a grown-up and grown-ups fuck on real beds, Steve.”

It had taken nearly two weeks for Bucky’s new bed frame to arrive and Steve was giddy with anticipation. Bucky texted him a photo of the box arriving yesterday and the short message: _Get your ass over here tomorrow night. Be ready._

The invite was not subtle but if Steve thought about it too hard the night would be over before it even began.

“Actually, I think I’ve found a place too,” Steve said instead, hoping Natasha would let him change the subject, “You want to see?”

A grin spread across Natasha’s face.

“Yes!” 

She leaned across the kitchen island as Steve wiped his hands on a rag and pulled out his phone to show her the pictures he’d taken the day before.

“It’s a brownstone over in Park Slope,” he said as she swiped through the pictures, “it's got three stories, it’s in a secluded neighborhood, and it’s not far from the park. It needs a little work but I think I can handle it.”

Natasha looked up at him fondly.

“It looks perfect, Steve,” She said, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder, “I’m really happy for you.”

“It’s got a guest room,” Steve replied,“I’ll make it really nice, I promise.”

Natasha’s smile widened.

“I want my own bathroom.”

“Done.”

“At least a queen sized bed.”

“I figured.”

“And a rack for all my knives.”

“You’re pushing it, Romanoff.”

“I’m sure Barnes wouldn’t say no to a knife rack,” she laughed as Steve turned back to his painting, shaking his head.

Steve couldn’t disagree.

He was trying not to construct his new life entirely around Bucky but it was hard not to walk through that empty brownstone and imagine that one day Bucky would be sitting in the reading nook with Alpine in his lap or that the walls of the office would soon be littered with pictures of celestial bodies and academic articles Steve could barely decipher. But who knew? Maybe in a year's time he’d be moving into Bucky’s place or maybe they’d be looking for a brand new place together. 

The thought made him smile. 

“Well,” Natasha stood, taking one more moment to scan Steve’s quickly emptying apartment, “not all of us are unemployed so I gotta run.”

Steve threw a grape at her. She caught it in her mouth and chomped down on it with a grin.

“Tell Barnes I said hi!” She called as she dodged the second grape and made a run for the elevator.

“I will,” Steve called back, shaking his head as he stuck the remaining grapes in his mouth and twirled his brush in his fingers like it was one of Bucky’s knives.

He turned back to his painting and dabbed a little more pale yellow across the fluffy band of clouds at the top. 

Thor had promised to return to Earth before summer was over to take Steve back to Asgard and he had plans to paint everything from the Bifrost to the view from the castle. So before then, Steve needed to get skills back into shape. 

It was a challenge Steve had thrown himself into whole heartedly. 

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. It was only when the sun began to dip that Steve lay his brush down and his nerves kicked into gear.

 _Be Ready._ Bucky had said.

Steve shivered, already half hard as he stepped into the shower. He scrubbed flakes of drying paint off his hands in the shower and valiantly ignored his dick as he cleaned up and dried off. He fluffed up his hair with some product he’d stolen from Tony before spending way too long puttering around his boxed up apartment, looking for clothes he hadn’t packed yet that would make his ass look good. Eventually, he settled on a pair of tight jeans and a henley that was maybe a size too small before throwing on an olive green bomber jacket and hopping onto his bike with a small package bundled up in the seat compartment.

He rode across the river into Brooklyn in record time, only slowing down as he crossed the Manhattan Bridge just to admire the glow of the setting sun across the landscape and eventually he pulled up to a wide brick building with tall industrial windows and old wrought iron railings.

He parked out front and quickly fixed his hair again in the mirror of his bike, grabbed the parcel from under his seat, and hurried up the front steps.

His heart flipped at the sight of Bucky’s name neatly printed in a row of others, each with its own buzzer next to it. He hit Bucky’s button and a moment later, the latch on the front door clicked open.

The foyer was cool and well designed but Steve didn’t pause to admire it. He climbed the stairs to the third floor two at a time and quickly found apartment 8.

Steve froze with his hand raised to knock.

The door was askew in its frame.

Steve looked around. There was a single security camera at the far end of the hall pointing right at Bucky’s door.

He hesitated, then slowly sank down to his knees, and then ducked down to peek at the crack between the door and the floor. 

There was a motion sensor shoved under the hinge.

“Oh, you bastard,” Steve hissed, a smile already stretched across his face.

He reached down and pulled a microchip from the secret compartment in the sole of his shoe.

He may be retired, but old habits die hard.

He pressed the chip against the motion sensor and then got to work on the locks. He worked as quickly and quietly as he could. Bucky already knew he was there, since he buzzed him in, and Steve was sure that he was watching over the security feeds. As he picked the last of the three locks, he blew a kiss to the security camera and pulled the door open.

Bucky was leaning against the wall of the hallway, arms crossed and grinning like a loon.

“You coulda just knocked.”

Bucky was dressed casually in a simple t-shirt and jeans. His new arm glistened in the fading evening light and his hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a few long strands still hanging gracefully around his face. Mounted on the wall next to him was a small screen displaying the camera’s view of the apartment and Steve’s back as he stood in the doorway.

“I dunno, that seemed like a challenge,” Steve replied, stepping forward to wrap his hand around Bucky’s waist, “and I hate losing.”

Bucky hummed as Steve leaned in to kiss him. A dull thump sounded from behind him as Bucky kicked the door closed and pulled him in by the back of the neck. 

As many times as they kissed, Steve hoped that he would never stop feeling that rush of butterflies in his stomach when Bucky sighed against his lips.

“C’mon, let me show you the place first,” Bucky said against Steve’s cheek after a moment.

“This hallway’s pretty nice,” Steve countered, mouthing up the side of his jaw.

“Steve,” Bucky insisted, giggling as Steve nipped at his ear.

“Alright,” Steve pulled away, pretending to look put out.

“I’m sure we can defile the hallway another time,” Bucky placated with a grin, “Whatcha got there?”

He nodded at the box in Steve’s hand as Steve kicked off his shoes and followed Bucky into the wide living room.

“Just a little housewarming gift,” Steve replied before taking a moment to admire the space, “damn, that’s spectacular.”

There were four sets of windows, each arched at the top and broken into black framed panes, that overlooked the bay and Staten Island beyond.

“Gimmie, gimmie,” Bucky grabbed the box as Steve’s eyes continued to roam.

Most of the place was one huge room. Wide dark wood dining table on one side and a few, mostly empty bookshelves around it. There were a dozen boxes lined up beneath the windows and a lot of empty hardwood floor in between. Up against the far wall, Steve spotted Bucky’s old sofa from Romania. It was just as hideous as Steve remembered and a grin crept up his face.

“Oh my god.”

Steve turned just in time to see Bucky dip his finger directly into the chocolate ganache of the small raspberry filled chocolate cake, and stick it into his mouth with a sigh.

“Now _that’s_ what I’m talking about,” Bucky breathed, going in for another taste as his phone buzzed on the countertop.

With his finger still in his mouth, he checked his messages and smiled.

“It’s Rebecca,” he said, turning his phone around so Steve could see.

He showed Steve a photograph of two young kids, one just an infant and the other a toddler, both fast asleep in the backseat of a car.

“Aww,” Steve cooed, “your nieces are so cute.”

“Aren’t they.” Bucky could barely contain his smile, “Becca said she asked for time off work next month so I can go visit again. She wants to take a trip over to one of the national parks with the kids.”

“That sounds amazing, Buck,” Steve replied.

“I can ask her if you can come,” Bucky added, with a shy smile, “if you want.”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude—“

“You wouldn’t be,” Bucky insisted quickly, “Becca was always upset she never got to meet you when we were little, since I talked about you all the time. Plus, my nieces look even cuter in their Avengers themed onesies.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve laughed, “They got favorites?”

“Black Widow and Hulk,” Bucky grinned, “sorry, bud.”

“Oof,” Steve clutched his chest, “that hurts.”

“I’m sure they can be persuaded otherwise. If you still make s’mores like you used to, that is.”

“You mean with no graham crackers and two pieces of chocolate as the top and bottom?” Steve asked, “Why would I ever make them another way?”

Bucky smiled and lifted his phone.

“Should I ask?”

Steve had no family left. It hadn’t bothered him before but seeing Bucky so happy… it made him crave that same joy too. Before, Steve would have said no just on principle. Now though, he was free to indulge any desire he had.

“Alright,” Steve nodded, “ask her if there’s room for one more.”

Bucky grinned and quickly tapped out a message to Rebecca.

 _“Rreoowww?”_ Steve looked down at Alpine, who blinked up at him before walking forward and brushing his long white body against Steves ankle.

Steve gasped aloud.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” he breathed, eyes wide and unmoving, “Bucky, _look.”_

He stood stock still as Alpine did it again before wandering off to sit on the sofa.

“Didja see that?”

“I saw it,” Bucky shook his head, smiling as Steve watched Alpine go with wide eyes, “I told ya he’d get over it.”

“He _likes_ me,” Steve sighed, “wow.”

“Yeah, he missed your ugly mug,” Bucky closed the cake box, saving it for later, and licked the last of the ganache off his fingers, “C’mon, let me give you the tour.”

He showed Steve the spacious, stone countertops of the kitchen, surrounded by tall blue cabinets. The living room had high ceilings, nearly ten feet if Steve had to guess, and the open, empty space that would be beautiful in due time. Alpine’s corner of the apartment had a tall scratching post, a bucket full of colorful toys, and a heated cat bed that had softer memory foam cushions than the ones Steve had in Avengers Tower. Finally, they came to the bedroom. It was lined with another set of tall windows framing a king sized bed with a dark metal frame and made up with smooth linen sheets. Steve dragged his finger across the foot of the bed and let his eyes slide over the exposed brickwork and hardwood floors one more time. Atop the dresser were a line of hair products, a group of small rocks, and a single origami crane.

“I’m glad SHIELD gave you your stuff back,” Steve said, touching the crane with the tip of his finger, “They shouldn’t have taken it in the first place.”

Bucky hummed in agreement and leaned against the bricks by the window.

“You recognize those rocks?” Bucky asked, pointing with his chin.

Steve blinked and looked down at the small cluster of rocks. One was reddish with a swirl of white, one was grey with a white stripe through its center, another was curved like a crescent moon…

“Are—“ Steve shook his head and looked at the rocks again, “Are these from camp?”

Bucky flushed and looked out the window.

“You gave them to me,” was all Bucky said in response.

Steve’s heart felt like it could burst. He came up behind Bucky and wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed the nape of his neck.

“You kept them,” he whispered, an uncontrollable smile spread wide across his face, “You’re a sap.”

Bucky shrugged against him.

“You bring it out in me.”

Steve pressed his smile against Bucky’s shoulder.

“This place is amazing, Buck.” He whispered, “Seriously, I can’t wait to see what you do with it.”

“It’s a step up from my place in Romania, that’s for sure,” Bucky laughed, “I still can’t believe it’s mine.”

Steve kissed his shoulder and squeezed him tight.

“What about you?” Bucky asked as Steve rested his chin on his shoulder.

“I’m going to sign the papers for the brownstone tomorrow,” Steve told him with a smile, “and I’ll move in at the end of the month.”

“Look at us,” Bucky sighed, “real-ass adults, buying houses and shit.”

Steve laughed into the side of Bucky’s neck.

“We made it,” Steve whispered, kissing Bucky’s shoulder.

“We did,” Bucky breathed.

Bucky turned in Steve’s arms and his smile was as blinding as the setting sun behind him. 

“You should spend the night.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll make you breakfast.”

“You don’t have to convince me.”

“You can borrow some of my clothes.”

“Something tells me I won’t be needing many.”

Bucky’s eyebrows rose.

“Presumptuous,” he remarked, fighting back a grin.

“Just reading the room,” Steve mused, leaning in to brush his lips against the side of Bucky’s neck again, “Love the bed frame. Looks sturdy.”

Bucky snorted and tipped his head back to give Steve more space to suck a mark just below his ear.

“Tell me what you want,” Bucky breathed.

“Anything you want,” Steve replied as he brushed Bucky’s hair out of the way to admire his work.

Bucky sighed dramatically, and not in the happy, blissful way. There was a frown on Bucky’s face as he fisted his hands in Steve’s shirt.

“If you want something, ask for it,” Bucky said fiercely, “If you want me, say so.”

Steve blinked.

“You’ll never get what you want if you still won’t ask for it,” Bucky reminded him with a slightly softer tone, “So ask me.”

“You want me to…?” Steve struggled to find words.

“I want you to let go,” Bucky said, tugging Steve closer, “I want you to take as much as you give.”

“Bucky, I…” he faltered.

Steve came here with plans to give Bucky everything he wanted. He could take the reins if Bucky wanted him too but if he was honest with himself, he had been expecting and willing to take whatever Bucky gave him. It hadn’t occurred to him to want for himself. It never did. Besides, it wasn’t like Bucky would ever give him something he _didn’t_ want. Steve didn’t think that was even possible.

“You don’t have to hold back with me, Stevie,” Bucky whispered against Steve’s lips, walking him backwards, “I can take it.”

Steve’s back hit the brick wall of Bucky’s bedroom.

“Tell me what you want,” Bucky growled against his lips, “and then let me give it to you.”

Heat seared down Steve’s spine and his pants were suddenly way too tight as his brain short circuited. Steve struggled to form cohesive thoughts as Bucky’s strong arms pinned him to the wall.

“I want…” Steve swallowed.

He hardly knew how to finish that sentence beyond just saying “you” but something told him that Bucky wouldn’t accept that answer.

“I want..”

What did he want? 

He wanted Bucky’s hands on him. He wanted Bucky to kiss him until he was dizzy. He wanted to run his fingers through that soft hair and then blow him until his throat was raw. He wanted Bucky to fuck him and he wanted to fuck Bucky. He wanted it hard and fast and soft and sweet. He wanted searing nights and lazy mornings. He wanted Bucky in every way possible. He wanted him here, he wanted him in his new brownstone, he wanted him on the shores of that far off lake. Smiling, laughing, joyous and loving. He wanted now. He wanted forever. He wanted… 

He wanted… 

God, he _wanted._

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice brought him back to the present, “You with me, Stevie?”

Steve blinked and Bucky’s blue eyes anchored him back in the present. Strong and sturdy, unyielding and unbreakable. Steve clung to him like a lifeline.

Forever would come, Steve decided, but he needed something that Bucky could do for him right now. Luckily, he had plenty of ideas.

“I want you to kiss me.”

Bucky smiled as though Steve had just given him the world.

He leaned in and the back of Steve’s head pressed against the bricks as Bucky nudged his mouth open with his tongue. He tasted like chocolate and raspberries and the glowing summer days of Steve’s childhood. Steve melted as Bucky pressed up against him, slipping a thigh between his legs and sliding his chest against Steve’s. Steve shuddered as the fabric of his shirt rubbed against his chest and he felt Bucky smile against him.

“What else,” Bucky whispered, kissing along Steve’s jaw and then down the side of his neck and back up again.

Steve swallowed, his breath was already coming fast.

“I want you to take your shirt off.”

Bucky laughed against his throat and his hands left Steve’s sides to grab the hem of his shirt. In a smooth motion, he crossed his arms and pulled his t-shirt over his head.

Bucky’s chest was as broad as Steve had imagined it. His left side was littered with scars that wove across his chest and around the seam of metal in his shoulder. His pecs were round and defined. His abs tightened under Steve’s gaze and the cut of his hips descended into a perfect V that disappeared under the waistband of his jeans.

Steve reached out and let his hand skim from Bucky’s collarbone, over the swell of his chest, and down the ridges of each ab. Then, Bucky was back on him, kissing him deep and then ducking down to continue littering his throat with hickies. Steve watched his hot breath fog up the shiny metal of Bucky’s shoulder before pressing his lips against it and reaching down to tug at his own shirt. Bucky caught on quickly and helped him pull it up and off before tossing it onto the floor somewhere and diving back in.

“I want you to touch me,” Steve gasped against Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky smiled against his throat.

“Where?” He breathed.

Steve caught Bucky’s hand, the metal one, and slowly brought it up to cup his chest. A breathy sigh fluttered against his cheek as Bucky’s hand caressed his pec once, then _squeezed._

Something halfway between a groan and a gasp came out of Steve’s mouth as all the blood in his body suddenly rushed south. His head hit the bricks again as Bucky grinned wickedly and got both of Steve’s pecs in hand. 

He squeezed again, hard, and Steve arched off the wall, his hips rutting forward against nothing until Bucky got his thigh more firmly between his legs. Steve hooked his fingers through the belt loops of Bucky’s jeans just so that he’d have something to hang onto.

“God, you are somethin’ else, Steve Rogers.” Bucky breathed, his eyes glazing over as Steve started grinding against his thigh.

Bucky’s gaze was locked on his hands as he dug his fingertips into the soft skin of Steve’s chest. He raked his nails down, catching Steve’s nipples and the responding hitch in Steve’s breath spurred him to do it again. Bucky let go for a moment and then his fingers returned, just pinching and Steve gasped.

“I could play with you like this all day,” Bucky murmured, almost to himself as he pinched tightly before squeezing as much of Steve’s pecs as he could in both hands and pushing them together.

Then Bucky’s warm hand was gone and suddenly Steve’s nipple was encased in Bucky’s hot, wet, sucking mouth. The pitch of Steve’s little gasps shot up three octaves as he arched his back and got up on his tip-toes to push his chest against Bucky’s lips. Bucky’s tongue licked across his nipple and then he felt the sting of teeth against his sensitive skin. Steve let go of Bucky’s waist to fist a hand in his hair, pulling him closer as his metal hand rhythmically squeezed his other pec.

“Bucky,” Steve gasped, “Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.”

Bucky hummed against his skin and sucked him long and hard. Steve’s shoulders scraped against the brick as he tried to push himself up further. His hips were pressed up tight against Bucky’s now, just pressing his throbbing dick against Bucky’s hip through his jeans, unable to move beyond a few shallow jerks.

“I bet you could come like this,” Bucky breathed, sending hot puffs of air against Steve’s wet chest, “you wanna?”

Steve groaned long and loud.

God, did he want to.

But there was more he wanted too.

“No,” Bucky smiled knowingly, “I feel like you want something else.”

His metal hand didn’t let up on his chest, thumbing at his nipple as he squeezed.

“But one day, I’m gonna touch you like this until you do.”

“Fuck,” Steve breathed.

He was sure Bucky meant it and he couldn’t wait.

Bucky licked him again, more gently this time, now that he knew there was still more to come. He pressed his tongue flat against Steve’s nipple and dragged it up, all the way to Steve’s clavicle.

“What else,” he whispered, his lips meeting Steve’s again, “tell me what else you want.”

Steve tangled both his hands in Bucky’s hair and sucked his tongue into his mouth. He kissed him hard and needy, gasping as Bucky’s hands settled on his hips.

The situation in Steve’s pants was starting to get more urgent. Might as well go for broke.

“Fuck me,” Steve hissed, bitting Bucky’s bottom lip as they kissed.

The rolling of Bucky’s hips stuttered as he sucked in a breath.

“Okay,” Bucky breathed shakily, “Fuck. Okay, yeah. I can do that.”

“And…”

“And?” Bucky grinned and pressed their foreheads together.

“I don’t know about you,” Steve whispered, his already flushed cheeks feeling even hotter as he figured out what to say next, “but the serum, well… I can go for kind of a while. A couple times, I mean.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky’s grin widened, “I may know a thing or two about that.”

Steve’s stomach fluttered.

“I was thinking maybe, after you do me, we could switch.”

Bucky blinked at him, then his grip on Steve’s hips went tight and his eyes squeezed shut.

“I am not gonna come in my pants,” Bucky chanted through gritted teeth, “I am not gonna come in my pants. I am not going to— stop _laughing!”_

Steve fell back against the cool bricks. He wrapped his arms around himself and his head fell against Bucky’s chest as he laughed so hard no sound came out.

“This is your fault!” Bucky accused, glowering down at Steve’s delighted face.

“I mean,” Steve struggled to get the words out between peals of laughter, “I mean it’d be okay if you did. I can go like, four times.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide.

“Four?”

“Yeah,” Steve got out the last of his giggles and grinned up at him, “At least, I haven’t tried going for longer. What about you?”

“Uh,” Bucky shrugged, “I’ve never tried for more than two.”

“Well, you know I love a challenge,” Steve replied, his eyes darkening as he examined the expanses of Bucky’s chest that he had yet to touch.

To his surprise, Bucky swallowed.

Steve darted forward and pressed a light kiss to Bucky’s slack lips.

“Bed.” He decided before straightening up, his cheeks beginning to hurt from the force of his smile.

“We’re already down to one word commands, huh,” Bucky lamented as Steve pushed him towards the large mattress, “What happened to complete sentences, huh, Stevie?”

“I want to be fucked without a brick wall digging into my back. Please and thank you.” Steve replied before shoving Bucky hard.

Bucky fell with a yelp and bounced on the plush bed.

“Oh, is that how it is, Rogers?” Bucky challenged, sitting up and grabbing Steve around the waist. 

Steve tipped forward and Bucky flipped them like he weighed nothing. Steve got a leg around his hip and tugged, wrestling Bucky off him and getting them both helplessly tangled in the sheets. Bucky laughed as Steve’s arm got caught and then launched a full tickle attack at Steve’s defenseless side.

“You wanna laugh, huh?” Bucky asked, his eyes bright as Steve yelped and wiggled away, “Your shitty lungs can’t save you now!”

Steve yanked his arm free and hooked it around Bucky’s neck. He pushed him back and pinned him to the mattress, straddling his hips.

Then he leaned down and blew a massive raspberry right above Bucky’s navel.

Bucky burst into laughter. His head tipped back and hung off the side of the mattress. Steve tried to blow another one but he couldn’t get his smiling mouth or laughing chest to cooperate so he ended up just pressing his smile against Bucky’s heaving chest.

“That was— that was so loud,” Bucky said hysterically, draping his arm over his own face.

“Like a big ol’ fart.” Steve agreed.

Bucky barked out another burst of laughter and he swatted the side of Steve’s head. Steve grinned and began pressing little kisses across Bucky’s shoulders and chest.

“Man, I planned this whole thing out,” Bucky sighed as he got himself under control again, “In my head it was all so smooth and sexy.”

“This is more fun though, right?” Steve asked, pushing himself to hover over Bucky’s red face.

Something about his expression softened as Steve looked down at him.

“Way more fun,” Bucky admitted, hooking his arms around Steve’s neck, “I guess this is what happens when you get in bed with your best friend.”

Steve’s heart fluttered and he lowered himself down to his elbows.

“What? Nobody else has ever tried to blow raspberries on your tummy?”

Bucky laughed against his cheek.

“Shockingly, no,” Bucky said, kissing his jaw.

“Another first for me, huh,” Steve grinned as Bucky turned them over again and sat up between Steve’s legs.

“Weirdo,” Bucky replied fondly.

Suddenly, Bucky’s expression pinched. He jerked back and scanned the room frantically.

“What?” Steve was suddenly in fight mode, “What’s wrong?”

“Shit,” Bucky swore softly, “Where’s my fucking nightstand?”

Bucky scrambled off the mattress and began quickly searching the boxes that littered the far wall.

“Did you…” something clicked in Steve’s head, “did you invite me here for sex and then forget to unpack the lube?”

“No!” Bucky shouted over his shoulder, “It’s here somewhere I swear…”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh as a box tipped over with a small clang and Bucky swore again. He darted out of the room and Steve watched him scamper across the apartment from his spot lounging on the bed. 

“It’s in one of these boxes I’m _positive!”_ Bucky yelled through the open door.

“It better be!” Steve shouted back, shaking his head with a grin, “Cause’ I’m not waiting for you!”

With that, Steve undid the button of his jeans and shoved them down.

Another swear echoed through the mostly empty apartment and in his periphery, Steve saw Bucky’s silhouette pause as it passed the door again but neither of them abandoned their missions. Bucky’s footsteps in the living room became more urgent and Steve sighed loudly as he stretched out, completely naked across Bucky’s bed. He spread his legs and stuck a finger in his mouth. He moaned around it and then pulled it out with a slick pop. He planted his feet on the mattress and let his knees fall apart before letting his hand trail slowly down his chest, across his abs, around his thick cock, and pressing it lightly against his tight hole.

Steve dug his teeth into his bottom lip and moaned deep in his throat.

“I found it!” Bucky shouted from what sounded like the kitchen as something thumped to the ground and Alpine meowed loudly, “Steve, I f—fucking hell.”

Bucky stumbled to a halt at the foot of the bed and Steve smiled at him from between his own parted knees.

“Oh, you’re back.” He said casually.

He kept rubbing his spit-slick finger around his rim in little circles. Even through Bucky’s jeans, Steve could see his dick twitch as he stared, enraptured, at Steve’s finger.

“You just gonna stand there or…?” 

Bucky jerked forward as if he'd been shocked and quickly fumbled with the button of his jeans. 

“Jesus Fucking Christ,” he muttered under his breath, “You’re so fucking— you’re such a— fuck.”

His jeans smacked against the wall and the mattress dipped as he quickly crawled up it and batted Steve's hand away so he could look down at Steve, stretched out before him.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed again.

Steve watched his eyes flick from his hole up to his tight balls, then his thick, red cock lying, waiting, against his abs.

With gentle, almost reverent hands, he pushed Steve’s knees farther apart and Steve shivered as cool fingers skimmed the insight of his thigh.

“Sorry,” Bucky whispered, glancing up from between Steve’s spread legs, “I know it’s cold.”

“I like it,” Steve replied, leaning back onto the pillows and closing his eyes, “I know it’s you even when I’m not looking.”

He couldn’t see Bucky’s face but he heard the little huff of incredulity. He kept his eyes closed as Bucky moved around and promised himself that he’d make Bucky believe he loved all parts of him, no matter how long it took. Bucky shifted again and Steve felt every inch of his skin tingle with anticipation as a hot breath ghosted over the side of his knee. A feather light kiss grazed his skin and a warm finger skimmed the underside of his thigh. The tip of Bucky’s nose brushed up his leg and then his hot tongue licked the softest part of his inner thigh.

Steve sucked in a sharp breath as Bucky’s mouth bit another mark onto his sensitive skin.

“So soft,” Bucky breathed, his lips sliding further up as he spoke, “so warm.”

Hot breath hit his balls, then drifted up his shaft. Steve’s dick twitched and he felt a drop of liquid drip onto his abs.

“Don’t tease me,” Steve hissed, “I’ll come.”

“You said four, right?” Bucky asked, each word ghosting over Steve’s cock.

Steve shook his head vigorously, his eyes still squeezed shut.

“I don’t wanna come yet,” he insisted, “I wanna wait, it’ll be better, just…“

“Think you can last?” Bucky asked when Steve’s sentence trailed off, “I’ve gotta finger you first.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to fend off his pleasure with his teeth biting into his own lip. He dug his fingers into the sheets and finally opened his eyes. Bucky was kneeling, his ass in the air as he hovered above Steve’s cock. His eyes were hungry as he looked up and met Steve’s gaze.

Steve gave him a challenging glare.

“I want you to do it without making me come,” he demanded.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed.

“I can’t believe you’re putting this on me,” he scoffed playfully, already sitting up as if to examine the situation, “This all seems a bit like a _you_ problem.”

“You said you wanted to give me what I wanted,” Steve reminded him, “and I’ve told you what I want.”

“You went from a giver to a bossy bottom awful quick, Stevie.”

Bucky’s butt hit the mattress as Steve kicked him in the sternum.

“You made this bed, now fuck me on it!” Steve retorted loudly.

“Okay, okay!” Bucky laughed, kissing Steve’s ankle, “I opened this can of worms, I get it.”

“My metaphor was better,” Steve huffed as the cap of the lube bottle clicked.

“That wasn’t even the proper saying.”

“I improved it— _okay.”_ Steve’s whole body clenched as a slick, warm finger touched his hole.

Bucky’s metal hand squeezed his knee before sliding up to hold his thigh in place.

“M’ sorry, what was that?” Bucky asked with a grin as his finger circled Steve’s hole.

“Jerk.” Steve hissed as Bucky’s finger began to press.

“Punk,” Bucky breathed fondly, his eyes sliding down as his finger breached Steve’s entrance.

A sigh fell from Steve’s lips as it slid in to the first knuckle, then the second. It pulled out with a slow drag, not leaving Steve’s skin before pushing back in at a slightly different angle.

Steve closed his eyes again as it pulled back out. The room was suddenly very still. All he could hear was his own, deliberately slow breath, the thumping of his heart, and slide of skin as Bucky ran his metal hand up and down Steve’s thigh. 

Bucky himself was silent. Steve peeked his eyes open and caught a glimpse of the intense concentration on Bucky’s face. His entire being was focused on his finger slowly pumping in and out of Steve’s hole the same way he stared through his scope out in the field. His shoulders were taught and between his legs, Steve could just see the tip of a flushed cock, standing straight up against his abs.

A shudder ran through Steve’s body as he let his head fall back and tried to steady himself once again.

“You okay?” Bucky asked in a hushed tone.

“Mm hum,” Steve hummed his affirmation, not trusting his voice as Bucky’s finger twisted inside him.

Long hair brushed his cock as Bucky’s lips pressed a kiss just above his hole. Steve jerked at the sudden sensation and fisted his hands more tightly in the sheets to keep himself still.

“One day,” Bucky whispered breathlessly against Steve’s hole, “I’m gonna eat you out until you come all over yourself.”

Steve groaned, his back arching off the mattress as he squirmed under Bucky’s hands.

“Is that happening before or after you suck me off through my nips?” Steve teased through shallow gasps.

Bucky’s finger jerked as he laughed and Steve felt sudden pleasure shoot through his body. He arched forward, grabbed his aching cock, and squeezed the base as hard as he could, gasping as he teetered at the edge of bliss.

Bucky’s finger stilled and Steve shuddered as he stumbled back from the edge.

“Holy fuck,” Bucky breathed.

Steve blinked. He was sitting up, looking down at Bucky between his own legs. His hand was wrapped tight around his dick and Bucky’s finger was buried deep in his ass.

“I said I _don’t_ want to come yet,” Steve gasped, loosening his grip and committing the sight in front of him to memory.

“You are not making this easy for me, Stevie,” Bucky groaned, sitting up to mouth at Steve’s nipple again, “Jesus, your chest is glorious.”

“Gimmie another finger,” Steve said, laying back down, unsurprised when Bucky followed him.

Bucky got his knees back under him and leaned over Steve, his metal hand planted on the mattress as he bit down on Steve’s pec while a second finger began pushing at his rim.

From this angle, Steve could see Bucky’s hard length hovering just above his own. It was flushed and dripping; thick enough to stretch and long enough to reach the back of Steve’s throat if he tried.

Distracted on two fronts, Bucky didn’t see Steve’s hand sneaking down between them and Steve fully expected the flash of pain across his chest as Bucky instinctively bit down when Steve grabbed him and _tugged._

 _“Fucking—”_ Bucky hissed and grabbed Steve’s wrist with his metal hand, “Oh, you ass.”

“You’re lookin’ a little worked up there, Buck,” Steve grinned, “let me get that for you.”

“Nuh uh,” Bucky shook his head and pinned Steve’s wrist to the sheets, “I’m not comin’ anytime soon.”

Bucky’s body betrayed him as a thick bead of liquid dripped down onto Steve’s skin. He groaned and dropped his head onto Steve’s chest while Steve laughed at him.

“I’m not convinced,” Steve teased, knowing Bucky could feel each clench of his ass as he laughed.

“Shuddup,” Bucky grumbled, “S’not my fault you decided we couldn’t come until you were good and ready.”

“I didn’t say _you_ couldn’t come,” Steve replied, nudging him in the thigh with his heel so he’d start moving his fingers again.

“Like I’m gonna let myself come before you do,” Bucky retorted, going back to prodding at Steve’s rim with two fingers, “God, you’re tight.”

Steve hummed happily as he felt the tip of Bucky’s middle finger slip in next to his first.

“You can fix that, right?” Steve asked as Bucky loosened him up with just the tips of his two fingers.

“Whaddaya think I’ve been doing?” Bucky replied breathily.

“Playing ‘where’s his prostate’ and failing miserably?”

Steve braced himself even as the words left his grinning mouth. The sudden shove of two fingers deep in his ass was expected, what wasn’t expected was the sudden heat and suction around the head of his cock.

“So, that’s how it is, huh?” Bucky hissed against Steve’s dick, “I can play dirty too, Rogers.”

Goading Bucky had always been fun, but this was a whole new level of delight for Steve to explore.

“Bring it on, Barnes,” Steve gasped.

Bucky’s fingers started thrusting, all caution and gentleness gone as his other fingers dug against Steve’s ass with each push, pleasure spiking through him with each motion. Bucky’s lips parted around the wet head of Steve’s dick and he held it in his mouth, licking and sucking at the slit while his metal hand slid up and his hard fingers clamped down on his nipple.

Steve’s mouth fell open as the pinching, sucking, thrusting engulfed his senses. He could hear the wet thrust of fingers now, sliding and dripping with lube, while Bucky mouthed at the underside of his cock.

Bucky was playing him like an instrument and it was everything he wanted.

“Yes,” he gasped, tugging at Bucky’s ponytail, “yes, yes, yes.”

Bucky mouthed down his shaft to his balls, sucking one into his mouth and giving it a little tug before letting it go with a wet pop.

“You’d better not come,” Bucky hissed, “You said you wouldn’t.”

“I won’t,” Steve panted, challenging, “you can’t make me.”

Bucky’s fingers twisted inside him.

“You’re playing with fire, Rogers,” Bucky breathed, sinking his teeth into Steve’s inner thigh.

“I can do this all day,” Steve retorted, tugging sharply on Bucky’s hair.

Bucky growled as a third finger forced its way into Steve’s hole with no warning. Steve’s back arched and his cock throbbed as Bucky sucked at his balls.

Steve refused to come. He’d initiated this game and he was going to win. Bucky was tenacious but Steve was stubborn beyond measure. 

“How did this even happen,” Bucky grumbled against his dick, “You’re supposed to be letting go, not becoming more repressed than ever.”

“I’ll get there,” Steve breathed, grinning down at Bucky, “I’m gonna be so loose after I come on your dick.”

Bucky’s eyes snapped shut and he quickly gripped himself tightly, groaning against Steve’s groin.

“You can’t say shit like that, Stevie,” he moaned, his fingers slipping from Steve’s ass as he fought back his climax for the second time.

“S’called delayed gratification, Buck,” Steve replied, tugging Bucky up so they were face to face, “It’ll be good, I promise.”

“If you wanted me to edge you, you coulda’ just asked.”

Another spurt of hot liquid dripped from Steve’s throbbing dick.

“I— I mean…,” Steve stuttered as his face flushed a shade darker, “maybe next time.”

“After I fuck your tits and then eat you out,” Bucky amended, a grin spreading across his face.

“Jesus,” Steve threw his arm over his face with a laugh, “we have a fucking _list.”_

“Well, if you weren’t so determined to wait for some goddamn reason,” Bucky muttered, kissing him and nipping at his lips, “we coulda done at least two of those things already.”

“I just want—“

Steve cut himself off. 

Bucky pulled back.

“What?” He asked, trying to pull Steve’s arm away from his face, “what do you want, Stevie?”

Steve was suddenly hot all over. 

Teasing was easy. Being sincere was much, much harder.

“I just—“ Steve took a breath but still couldn’t quite make eye contact even with Bucky’s naked body pressed against his, “this wasn’t supposed to be a competition. I just— this is our first time.”

Bucky blinked at him.

“I wanna come with you in me,” Steve admitted quietly, “that’s all.”

The smile that blossomed across Bucky’s face wasn’t the wide teasing grin from before, or even the uncontrollable beaming delight Steve had grown used to. This one was small and private, almost tender as Bucky lowered himself into Steve’s arms.

“Okay,” he acquiesced easily, his lips brushing Steve’s hot cheek.

Bucky’s fingers eased up as he went back to gently stretching Steve’s hole open.

“See how easy things are when you just ask?” Bucky breathed, as Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck.

“I don’t always like things easy,” Steve replied, pressing his hot face against Bucky’s cool shoulder.

“I know.” Steve could hear the smile in Bucky’s voice, “It’s ‘cause you’re a piece of work.”

Steve hummed in agreement as he hooked his legs around Bucky’s waist.

“You ready, Stevie?”

Bucky’s fingers twisted inside him again, scissoring slightly. Steve reached between them and slid his own finger in alongside Bucky’s.

“Jesus, _fuck—“_

“Yeah, I’m good,” Steve pulled both of their fingers out with a _pop,_ “I want you to fuck me up against the headboard.”

Bucky looked like he was trying to process too many things at once so Steve just pushed him back onto his knees and crawled up the bed himself, shoving aside pillows until his back was against the cool, metal headboard.

“C’mon, Buck,” Steve said with as cocky an air as he could muster as he casually lay his arms across the top of the headboard, “show me whatcha got.”

Bucky stared at him from the other side of the bed. His face was flushed, his right hand was shiny from the lube, and his left was cupping his hard, flushed, dripping cock as his chest heaved with quick, shallow breaths.

Bucky’s eyes roamed from Steve’s broad shoulders to his narrow waist, then down across his spread thighs and back up to his face.

“You’re gonna kill me, Steve Rogers,” Bucky whispered as he stared back at Steve.

“Couldn’t if I tried.” Steve retorted with a grin, “Get over here, Buck.”

He reached out and Bucky tangled his metal hand in his before crawling over on his knees.

Steve’s heart rate kicked up as Bucky gently scooped his arms under Steve’s thighs and pulled him onto his lap. Steve let himself be lifted off the mattress and wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist as the back of his neck and shoulders pushed up against the headboard for leverage. He hooked his arms around Bucky’s neck and pulled him for one more sweet kiss.

Bucky looked at him with big eyes as he scooted forward a little more and Steve felt the blunt head of his cock bump against his ass.

“You good like this, Stevie?”

“Yeah,” Steve nudged him with his heel to get him moving.

“Impatient,” Bucky chided before shifting all of Steve’s weight to his metal hand and reaching back to grab the lube again.

Steve tried not to let the show of strength affect him but Bucky saw his cock twitch and grinned up at him knowingly.

“You want me to come in you or should I wait my turn?” Bucky asked cheekily as he slicked himself up.

“God, if you don’t come in me I will fucking— _oh…”_

The tip of Bucky’s cock pressed against his rim and then, after a moment of resistance, slipped inside.

“Fuck.” Bucky hissed, leaning his forehead against Steve’s as he panted, “You’re so warm.”

“Bucky,” Steve breathed, gripping him tightly.

Moment by moment, inch by inch, Bucky pushed his hips up. Steve felt himself stretch, the burn tingling up his spine as the ridge beneath the head of Bucky’s cock forced him open. When Bucky was halfway in, he pulled back and Steve felt his rim catch on the head as it slipped out, the tip still kissing his hole as Bucky spread another squirt of lube on himself before going back in.

“You’re still tight,” Bucky murmured as he wiped his hand on the sheets and grabbed Steve’s thighs again.

Steve stared down between them. His chest was slick with sweat and the drippings from his own cock. His thighs were shiny with lube and riddled with teeth marks and hickeys. Between his legs, Bucky's chest glistened and his sticky hands slid down to Steve’s ass as his cock, a little cold from the lube, pressed back into his hole. Steve looked down, beyond his aching dick and caught a glimpse of the thick base of Bucky’s cock, disappearing under him as his hard length slid in.

Steve shivered as his ass enveloped Bucky’s dick. Bucky pressed their chests together and nudged Steve’s head back that up and pressed a kiss to Steve’s panting mouth. 

Then his hips rocked. Steve gasped, then shook with a full body shudder as Bucky began to move with shallow thrusts, his hips still not meeting Steve’s ass, just slowly stretching him as he worked the widest part of his dick against his rim.

“How were— _nngh—_ how were three fingers not— ah— not enough,” Steve bit out as he felt, with acute, burning precision, the drag of his hole against Bucky’s thick length.

“I’ll use four next time,” Bucky muttered, kissing Steve’s cheek and panting against his jaw before pausing to get more lube.

“Jesus, just squirt it in me. It’ll go faster,” Steve half joked as Bucky slicked himself up again, his fingers prodding at Steve’s hole once more as he spread the lube around.

“You’re almost there,” Bucky encouraged, wiping his hand again before wrapping both his arms around Steve’s waist to keep him elevated.

Steve grit his teeth as Bucky lined himself back up and pushed in once again.

“Relax,” Bucky whispered into his ear, “I got you.”

Steve took a breath as Bucky pulled back, then pushed in a little bit further, then back out, and back in even further. Twice more, three times. Steve whimpered as the stretch sent rolling waves of heat radiating from his hole. He leaned his head back against the headboard and sighed as Bucky pulled out and then pressed back in and in and in and suddenly Steve’s ass was flush against Bucky’s hips, cradled by his muscular thighs.

Bucky shuddered and dropped his head onto Steve’s shoulder.

“Wow,” he groaned, his panting breath puffing against Steve’s skin.

“Your thighs are like a slip-n-slide,” Steve giggled, winding his hands into Bucky’s hair as his body clenched and adjusted to the sensation of Bucky inside him.

“They’ve got like, half a bottle of lube on ‘em,” Bucky admitted in an unsteady voice.

“You shoulda bought a bigger bottle.”

Bucky snorted, then every muscle in his body tensed. Steve dug his fingers into Bucky’s back and squeezed him with his thighs as Bucky pulled out barely an inch before thrusting back in.

Steve hissed through his teeth as his body instinctively tensed and Bucky gave him a moment to recover before repeating the motion. The third time he did it, Steve felt sparks shoot up his spine. The fifth time, he slid another inch up the headboard. By the eighth, there was barely any resistance at all.

Steve and Bucky’s eyes met. They were both flushed, sweaty, and panting through matching grins.

Steve nodded once. 

Bucky hooked his elbows under Steve’s knees, hoisting him up an extra few inches as he rose on his knees. His cock slid out until Steve’s empty hole was just fluttering against the tip and then he slid back in with one smooth roll of his hips.

Steve’s mouth fell open. Before he could even process the sensations lighting up his skin, Bucky was pulling out and doing it again, and again, and again. Steve gasped. His hands scrabbled at Bucky’s back, his nails catching on skin and sliding across metal. 

“Ah— ah, Bucky—” Steve chanted breathlessly as Bucky found his rhythm.

The pace was smooth and steady, not furious but somehow just as unrelenting. Steve could do nothing but hold tight as Bucky pressed him against the headboard and fucked up into him. He clung to Bucky’s neck and let himself be taken apart by strong, unfaltering thrusts.

Hands found his ass and pulled his cheeks apart. Metal fingers pushed through the dripping mess and bracketed the slide of Bucky’s dick, one cool finger on either side of his moving cock, just resting against Steve’s hole. Steve moaned high in the back of his throat as his hot hole throbbed against the cold metal, soothing it as Bucky began to pick up the pace.

“God, Stevie,” Bucky sighed, “gimmie a kiss.”

Steve lifted his head and forced his eyes to focus. Bucky’s tongue licked into his mouth. Steve tried to kiss back but pleasure was building at the base of his spine. His legs trembled around Bucky’s waist and little gasps kept forcing their way out of his mouth. 

“Can’t— ah—“ Steve managed to whisper against Bucky’s lips.

“No more snark?” Bucky asked, grinning as he left Steve’s mouth to kiss the side of his neck instead, “Finally, some peace and quiet.”

“Fu—fuck off,” Steve bit out even as his own lips tugged into a smile.

Bucky just hummed agreeably and squeezed his ass with both hands. Steve could feel Bucky’s balls slapping against him with each thrust and he watched a single bead of sweat slowly roll down Bucky’s chest, down each divot of his abs, and disappear between them.

God, Bucky was beautiful. His dark metal arm shone in the fading evening light. The long locks of hair that had tugged free from his ponytail fluttered around his face, some sticking to his damp cheeks and others tickling Steve’s skin as he moved. The burn of Bucky’s cock had faded, now all Steve could feel was the beautifully smooth slide of firm heat inside him.

Steve felt the aches and burdens of the last five years disappearing with each thrust. Every conversation where he’d bit his tongue, every responsibility he’d taken with gritted teeth, every time he’d ignored what he wanted to make someone else’s life easier fell away as Bucky destroyed every possibility of Steve returning to that life with each roll of his hips. 

He’d wanted this for so long. 

And it was finally his.

“Harder,” Steve whispered between moans.

Steve asked and Bucky gave.

It was so easy. So perfect. 

Selfish, maybe, but Steve was allowed to be selfish. To take. To receive. For once in his life, he could let someone else take care of him.

“You close?” Bucky asked, looking down at Steve’s flushed dick and the wet droplets already scattered across his abs, “Christ, you’re dripping.”

“Almost,” Steve gasped, “I— I need—“

“Tell me,” Bucky’s gaze returned to his face, their lips barely a breath apart, “Tell me what you need. Let me give it to you.”

“Need—“ Steve stuttered as waves of pleasure began to build.

“You want me to touch you?” Bucky asked, his hips rolling ceaselessly, “You want my hand?”

Steve shook his head. His dick throbbed.

“Tell me, Stevie,” Bucky breathed, their lips brushing together as he spoke, “C’mon, you can do it.”

“Just—“ Steve clung to Bucky tighter, “come closer.”

Instantly Bucky’s chest pressed against his. Already slick from sweat and Steve’s dripping cock, a wall of sensation skated across Steve’s skin. Bucky’s hard nipples rubbed against his chest and the bump of every scar etched itself into Steve’s perfect memory. His skin was searing hot and perfect. Each thrust rolled Steve’s nipples against Bucky’s rough skin and the ridges of his abs slid across Steve’s aching cock.

Steve bit back the strangled noise that ripped from his throat. Bucky’s metal hand grabbed Steve’s lower back and held it up in an arch so Steve’s dick was caught tightly between them. Bucky moaned as Steve pulled his hair out of its ponytail and gripped the long, loose strands with both fists. He dug his heels into Bucky’s ass and pressed back against the metal headboard to give himself some leverage. 

Bucky’s perfect rhythm stuttered to a halt as Steve rutted his hips, shoving down on Bucky’s cock and then rubbing up against his abs.

 _“Fuck_ —Steve, ah— ah!”

Steve clenched. Every muscle in his body was taught as a bowstring and single-mindedly focused on the soul task of holding Bucky still so he could fuck himself down and jerk up as forcefully as he could.

“Stevie—Stevie, let me— _oh—_ let me—“

Steve was too far gone. He was so close. Bucky’s hands tried to slow Steve’s hips but even his immense strength couldn’t contend with the burning need that gripped Steve’s being.

“Come in me,” Steve hissed, his hands pulling Bucky’s head back until his back arched, squeezing Steve’s dick between them, “come in me, come in me, come in me.”

He clenched down on his next thrust and Bucky went rigid. 

All Steve could hear was the pounding in his own ears and all he could feel was the sudden burst of heat deep inside him. 

“Yes, yes, _yes,”_ Steve panted, each word an octave higher and twice as desperate as the last.

His mouth fell open in a silent, uncontrollable gasp as time froze.

His toes curled. The cock in his ass pulsed.

Come hit Steve’s chest in a long, thick spurt.

His lungs refused to work as the second wave splashed across his abs.

His legs trembled and he finally sucked in a shallow breath as the third and final surge dribbled down his shaft.

With a sigh that seemed to deflate his whole body, Steve relaxed into a sweaty puddle of bliss.

He felt drunk. He felt invincible. He knew he had a stupid grin on his face as he surged forward and shoved Bucky onto his back and he didn’t care.

Head still reeling, Steve’s hands pressed against Bucky’s chest as his long hair fanned out around him like a halo. Bucky’s dick was still buried inside him and Steve kept it there by sitting firmly on Bucky’s hips.

Bucky hissed as Steve planted himself but his eyes didn’t open. Steve stared down at him and waited, his chest still heaving. Bucky’s cheeks were stained red. His whole body glistened with sweat. His whole face was slack and when his eyes finally blinked open, they were hazy, dazed, and so, so blue.

Steve leaned down and licked a moan out of his mouth.

“Stevie,” Bucky breathed, a shaky hand slid into Steve’s hair, “fucking hell, _Stevie.”_

Steve grinned down at him.

“I told you so,” he declared before sitting up and lifting onto his knees.

He groaned as Bucky’s dick slid out of him and the head caught on his rim one more time. Bucky bit down on his own hand to keep himself still as his dick smacked against his stomach, dripping with lube and come.

Steve gently touched his own hole and ran his fingers across his loose, slick rim. He was wet, his heart was racing, and he was so very satisfied.

Time to return the favor.

Steve backed up over Bucky’s limp body and sucked his dick into his mouth.

Bucky yelped and jerked up, his hand gripping Steve’s hair and his knees shaking against Steve’s shoulders

“Fuck!” Bucky’s nails dug into Steve’s shoulder but he didn’t pull Steve off.

Instead, he pushed Steve further down. Bucky tasted like lube and come and little waves of excitement shot through Steve as he sucked the cock that had just been in his ass.

“Fu-uck!” Bucky stuttered, falling back onto the mattress and his legs squirming on either side of Steve, “Y-you were serious about switching?”

Steve pulled off him with a little _pop_.

“You still wanna?” He asked, pumping Bucky with one hand before licking just under the head.

Bucky hadn’t gone soft and neither had Steve but he looked wrecked as he shook against the sheets.

“Yeah, fuck, I really do,” Bucky ran a hand through his sweaty hair, pulling it back, “I just— God, Stevie, I’m shakin’.”

“I got you.” Steve crawled back up and kissed Bucky as gently as he could, “You gave me exactly what I wanted.”

Bucky sighed beneath him and his trembling hands began to still against Steve’s sides. Steve stroked his cock slowly, just keeping him hard as his breathing began to even out again.

“You did me so good, Bucky.” Steve breathed, kissing Bucky’s forehead, “You’ve done so much for me, let me say thank you.”

Bucky whined and Steve knew he would treasure that sound forever.

"You took care of me, now let me take care of you,” Steve whispered, mouthing at Bucky’s jaw.

“Please,” Bucky’s eyes shone as he whispered the plea, tipping his chin up to ask for a kiss.

Steve sealed their lips together and kissed him with slow, sure movements. He rubbed the head of Bucky’s dick with the tips of his fingers and thumbed at the slit as Bucky gasped beneath him.

Steve’s whole body was burning and he never wanted it to end.

He pressed one last kiss to Bucky’s lips before sliding back down, kissing his way across Bucky’s chest, his nipples, down his abs, and across his hips.

Bucky’s hands clenched and unclenched at his sides before lifting to tangle in the mess of sheets at his head, stretching himself out for Steve to explore. Steve grinned as he kissed down the tops of his thighs and pushed his legs up to run his lips across the backs of his knees. 

He lifted Bucky’s legs apart and hiked them up over his shoulders before licking a broad stripe from his inner thigh to his balls and up his shaft.

Bucky let out a shuddering moan, his thighs flexing as he fought the urge to buck his hips up towards Steve’s mouth.

“Mind if I add a few things to the list?” Steve asked teasingly as he mouthed at Bucky’s dick.

Above him, Bucky nodded vigorously. Steve wrapped his lips around Bucky’s cock and slid all the way down. Bucky’s length filled his mouth as Steve pushed past the point of comfort and felt the blunt head hit the back of his throat. He pulled off with a gasp, resisting the urge to choke as he got the head back in his mouth and licked the tip.

“One day,” Steve breathed, “I want you to pin me against a wall and fuck my mouth as hard as you can.”

Bucky groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as Steve sucked him down again. He bobbed his head a few times, just feeling the weight of Bucky’s length against his tongue before pulling off and sliding down lower. He licked Bucky’s balls before pushing them up with his thumb and getting his first look at Bucky’s little pink hole.

Bucky’s whole body shuddered when Steve sighed at the sight. 

“Perfect,” Steve murmured before leaning in and pressing the flat of his tongue against the tight rim.

Bucky jerked with a loud gasp and Steve just rested his tongue there, feeling each flutter and pulse as Bucky clenched and squirmed.

“Steve, ah, ah,” Bucky chanted, his hips canting up.

Steve just hummed and licked him again, light and quick this time before pointing his tongue and pressing in. The tip breached Bucky’s rim and Steve let out another hot breath as he began prodding and thrusting with his tongue, slowly coaxing Bucky’s tight hole open.

They were a bit passed teasing now but Steve knew that if he played his cards right, he could have front row seats to Bucky getting to three orgasms for the first time.

Bucky’s thighs clenched around his head and his heels dug into Steve’s back. Steve massaged Bucky’s balls while his tongue worked and, with his free hand, he felt around in the sheets for the lube. He found it buried in the sheets and grabbed it, only for it to immediately slip out of his hands.

“The fuck—“ Steve looked up and finally saw the state of the headboard.

There was a dent in the metal right where Steve’s shoulders had pressed against it and below that, streaks of wet lube dripped down into a huge damp spot where the lube bottle, still half open was leaking across the bed.

“Holy shit,” Steve breathed as he took in how thoroughly debauched the goddamn bed looked, let alone the two of them.

Beneath him, Bucky snorted, then descended into a peal of laughter.

“I couldn’t get the bottle closed,” he admitted between giggles, “my hand was too slippery.”

“Jesus, Buck, I don’t think changin’ the sheets is gonna fix that,” Steve chuckled, getting both hands around the slick lube bottle and gingerly bringing it between them.

“Worth it,” Bucky sighed as Steve slicked up his fingers, “Keep usin’ your mouth, Stevie.”

Steve tossed the lube aside and ducked back down to kiss Bucky’s rim before licking back in.

“That’s it,” Bucky moaned happily.

Steve smiled against his hole before replacing his tongue with the tip of his finger. He hooked his finger in at the first knuckle and then gave the rim a little tug. Bucky gasped sharply as Steve began working his tongue back in alongside his finger. He tugged at Bucky’s rim again and this time it opened just enough for Steve’s tongue to slip back inside. Bucky shuddered as Steve pushed his finger deeper, sucking at his rim as he crooked his finger up, searching. He pulled his finger out, caressed Bucky’s rim once, and then pushed back in, pressing until he found the spot that made Bucky’s back arch. Steve grinned and licked up until he could suck one of Bucky’s balls into his mouth. Now that he knew where to aim, he buried his finger in Bucky’s ass and just started tapping his prostate.

Bucky’s eyes ripped open and he jerked up onto his elbows, his knees pulling up against his chest. 

“Stevie, Stevie,” he gasped, “oh my god, Stevie—“

He bit back a moan and fell back, his shoulders arching off the mattress as Steve hammered his finger inside him. Bucky’s ass clenched, he gripped his own knees just to hold onto something, and sweat dripped down his forehead as Steve let him move however he wanted but didn’t let his finger slip out even an inch.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck,”_ Bucky panted, “gimmie another, c’mon.”

Steve brought his middle finger up to join his first. God, it was a sight. Steve sat back for a moment and just watched Bucky’s hole stretch across his finger and then, slowly, after a handful of little thrusts, begin to open up even more for his second digit.

The second the tip of his middle finger was in, Steve started scissoring him open. Bucky moaned, high and sharp, as Steve forced his tongue between his fingers to lick inside. His dick started to throb again. Steve palmed himself with his free hand before wiping the lube off his chin and getting his mouth around Bucky’s cock again.

Bucky’s hole clenched tight around his two fingers as he sucked on the tip. Caught in the vice-like grip of Bucky’s hole, Steve crooked his fingers and began sharply tapping once again right where he knew Bucky could feel it the most.

Bucky cried out and squirmed against the sheets.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” He moaned, his head tipped back, “ah— Stevie— Stevie, I can’t—ah.”

Steve relaxed his throat and sank down. His lips hit the base of Bucky’s dick and he stayed there; mouth lax and hot, fingers sharp and unrelenting. 

“Stevie— _ah—_ Stevie, wait I’m — Stevie, I’m gonna—“

Steve pulled off when Bucky’s urgent hands tugged him up by the hair.

“You can come, Buck,” Steve said, his voice was perfectly, beautifully rough from Bucky’s dick in his throat, “I wanna taste it.”

Bucky whimpered and his brow furrowed adorably.

“But—“ he gasped, “I thought you wanted to— ah— to—“

“I’ll make you come again after,” Steve insisted, stroking Bucky’s prostate, “You can do it, I promise.”

Bucky groaned and his head fell back again.

“Three is the magic number, Buck,” Steve told him with a grin.

Bucky barked out a laugh and threw his arm over his face.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He said shakily, “As long as you come too.”

Steve smiled and kissed his stomach.

“It’d be harder not to.” He admitted softly before getting back in position, “You can fuck my mouth, if you want.”

Bucky hissed and his metal hand slipped into Steve’s short hair, pushing him down.

Steve parted his lips and took Bucky’s cock back into his mouth, sliding up and down to mimic the little tugs and presses of Bucky’s hand on the back of his head. Bucky sighed as he pushed Steve all the way down and felt him swallow around his cock.

“Your fingers,” he murmured, “fuckin’ perfect.”

Steve wiggled his fingers just to hear Bucky yelp. He couldn’t laugh with Bucky’s dick in his mouth but his shoulders shook anyway and Bucky kicked him lightly.

“Jerk,” he grumbled, “alright, I’m gonna…”

Bucky’s hips pressed against Steve’s face as he lifted himself off the mattress with his feet planted on either side of Steve’s shoulders.

The precursor to Steve’s second orgasm dripped down his shaft as Bucky prepared himself. Steve locked his body in position, mouth open and fingers stiff as Bucky slowly, carefully rolled his hips.

Both moaned simultaneously as he fucked up into Steve’s mouth and then down onto his fingers. 

“God, I’m not gonna last,” Bucky groaned as he wove both hands into Steve’s hair, “you ready?”

Steve lifted his chin as much as he could and his eyes met Bucky’s. With his mouth still stretched around Bucky’s dick, he smirked.

“Asshole,” Bucky grinned before pulling back and rocking up into him.

Steve let his eyes flutter shut as Bucky held his face exactly where he wanted him and buried his cock in his mouth. It hit the back of Steve’s throat and then pulled back and Steve felt heat engulf his fingers.

God, Steve wasn’t going to last either.

He slipped his free hand down between his legs and almost touched his own cock before pausing. Coming in Bucky’s ass would feel better, he decided. He slipped his hand down further and touched his loose hole instead. 

He moaned as Bucky fucked into his mouth again. Bucky’s legs shook against his shoulders and his next thrust was harder and sharper, smacking against the back of Steve’s throat, making him choke. Bucky did it again, fucking himself hard on Steve’s fingers every time he pulled out as he worked up to a frantic pace.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Stevie,” Bucky gasped, “Fuck, I’m so close.”

Steve shoved three fingers into his own ass, twisted them exactly the way he liked, and went to town. He fingered himself as hard as he could, quick and stretched wide as he felt heat pool at the base of his spine once again.

“Do that thing with your fingers again,” Bucky hissed quickly, “C’mon just like— _ah!”_

Steve shoved his fingers deep but instead of just tapping this time, he stroked Bucky’s prostate with sharp raps, jerking his hand as quick as he could as Bucky grabbed his head and shoved him down.

“Yes, Stevie. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Bucky’s back arched and his cries turned desperate as his cock as it pulsed against Steve’s tongue.

He held Steve’s head down and Steve choked as Bucky’s come hit the back of his throat at point-blank range. He swallowed around Bucky’s cock and barely tasted the come as it slid down his throat, in searing hot, thick waves.

Steve whimpered as he shoved his fingers against his own prostate and his body jerked. His balls tightened and he furiously fucked himself until his pleasure crested again and his untouched cock shot streaks of come across the damp sheets. Steve shook as Bucky’s cock slipped out of his mouth and the last spurt of come splashed right across Steve’s tongue. The taste sent another wave down his spine and a last spurt of come shot from his dick as Bucky sighed. Steve swallowed wetly and sucked in a ragged breath as he came down. He licked the come from his lips before dizzily opening his eyes, just in time to watch his own come drip down Bucky’s balls and onto the fingers Steve still had buried in his ass.

“God, that’s filthy,” Steve groaned, his voice hoarse, before dropping down to lick his come off his own fingers and Bucky’s quivering rim.

“Steve.” Bucky’s voice was weak.

Steve pumped his fingers once, avoiding Bucky’s prostate and felt Bucky clench around him.

“Stevie,” Bucky called him again.

Steve looked up and met Bucky’s dark eyes. Steve crawled up and felt Bucky’s chest deflate as he sighed in relief as Steve kissed him.

Steve’s mouth was tacky with come and Bucky moaned when he tasted himself on Steve’s tongue. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and quivered when Steve pumped his fingers in him again.

“Too much?” Steve asked gently, kissing Bucky’s cheek, “We can stop, if you want.”

“What’s this?” Bucky asked, his soft, incredulous voice was framed by an audible smile, “Is Steve Rogers backing down from a challenge?”

Steve snorted against Bucky’s throat.

 _“I’m_ fine,” Steve insisted, “You, on the other hand, look like you’re about to pass out.”

He wasn’t wrong. Bucky’s whole body was lax and his eyes looked ready to close any second.

“Well, then wake me up,” Bucky replied cheekily, “You said you wanted to fuck me and we’re not stopping until you do.”

Steve huffed through his grin, pressing their lips together again. Bucky’s arms wrapped around his neck as he languidly licked into Steve’s mouth.

“Seriously, Buck,” Steve breathed against Bucky’s lips, “I can wait.”

Bucky pouted, then his brow arched.

“I have to do everything myself, huh?” 

Suddenly, Steve was on his back. Firm hands pinned him down and for a flash, he was back in Denmark with the Winter Soldier hovering over him. Heat seared down Steve’s spine at the memory and he blinked up at Bucky, now sitting on his abs. Bucky was half hard, his dick hovering just above Steve’s skin and his hand reached behind him. Bucky let out a little gasp and Steve blinked.

“Hey!” Steve grabbed Bucky’s arm and pulled him down so he was lying across Steve’s chest, “I wanna do that.”

Bucky let out a chuckle and pulled his fingers out of his ass so Steve could replace them with his own. Two fingers still slid in easily so Steve began stretching him for a third. Bucky shifted, scooting up so Steve had more room and planted his elbows on either side of Steve’s head. Steve could feel Bucky’s length trapped their bodies and every puff of Bucky’s breath against his cheek. It was the perfect position for Steve to tip his head up and kiss him so he did.

Bucky sighed and slowly rocked his hips against Steve’s abs while Steve nipped at his lips and stretched him on his fingers. The edge of desperation had faded. There was no more urgency, no uncontrollable need to come. Just the two of them, already satisfied and spent, breathing together.

“I adore you,” Steve whispered between kisses.

Bucky smiled with his lips still pressed against Steve’s.

“You talkin’ to me or my ass?” Bucky asked with another roll of his hips.

Steve giggled into Bucky’s mouth and twisted his fingers, squeezing Bucky’s round ass with his free hand.

“I mean,” Steve pretended to think, “your ass is pretty great.”

Bucky rocked back onto Steve’s fingers with a low moan.

“But I was talkin’ to you, dummy.” Steve let go of Bucky’s ass so he could cup the back of his neck instead.

Bucky’s eyes met his and his face turned soft.

“Sap,” Bucky accused, dipping down to kiss him again, “You know you‘ve always been my favorite.”

“Tell me anyway,” Steve tangled his fingers in Bucky’s long hair and kept him close as his third finger worked into his hole.

“You— _ah—_ You’ve always been my Stevie.”

Steve’s breath hitched. 

_I love you_ , Steve thought, his heart pounding in his ears, _I love you, I love you, I love you._

Steve turned them over, pulling his fingers out and taking a moment to catch his breath.

_I love you._

Hands, one warm and one cool, wrapped under his arms and across his shoulder blades. Steve looked down into those blue eyes, framed by dark lashes and flushed, glowing skin.

Steve slid both his hands into Bucky’s hair and pressed their foreheads together. 

“My Stevie,” Bucky breathed.

It was so close to reverence it was almost a prayer. Steve squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pour everything he was feeling into one, searing kiss. Bucky moaned against his lips and Steve gripped the back of his neck tightly. Fingers scrabbled at his shoulders and Steve pressed his hips down against Bucky’s just to hear him gasp. 

Need was growing again, he could hear it in Bucky’s little pants when he pulled back.

“C’mon,” Bucky whispered, nudging Steve’s hip with his knee.

Steve slipped three fingers back inside him.

“M’ ready,” Bucky mumbled, trying to push Steve’s fingers away.

“Let me just—“ Steve pushed his fingers deeper.

Bucky was pretty loose, Steve had been fingering him for a while bow, but there was still some resistance.

“C’mon,” Bucky whispered again, scratching his fingers down Steve’s back, “C’m _on.”_

“Shh,” Steve kissed the dimple on Bucky’s chin as he grabbed the lube again. 

“Don’ patronize me,” Bucky grumbled as Steve slicked himself up, “I may be beggin’ for it but that doesn’t mean I can’t still kick your ass.”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh against Bucky’s shoulder.

“M’ so scared,” Steve giggled as the head of his cock touched Bucky’s hole.

“You should be, Rogers,” Bucky groaned, “I’m— _mm…”_

Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth as the soft heat of Bucky’s hole enveloped him. He was so hot, so wet, and just a little bit tight. Steve moaned and sealed his lips against Bucky’s as he pushed in, just until the head of his cock was firmly trapped inside. Bucky shuddered beneath him and then spread his legs wider, wrapping them around Steve’s waist, before giving his hips an experimental roll.

 _“Fuck,_ Bucky,” Steve hissed, his hips jerking forward.

“Yeah,” Bucky moaned, “C’mon.”

Steve tipped their sweaty foreheads together again and carefully pulled out before sliding back in. Bucky’s eyes fell shut and his mouth opened as he sighed.

“Look at me, Buck,” Steve whispered.

Bucky’s eyes fluttered back open and he swallowed roughly as Steve pushed in a little farther. Steve bracketed Bucky’s face with his arms and began gently thrusting. Bucky’s eyes remained locked on his as he slid inside deeper and deeper until his balls pressed against Bucky’s ass. God, he was hot all over.

“You okay?” Steve asked, stilling inside him for a moment as he caught his breath.

Bucky nodded, his mouth still slack. Steve wiped a bead of sweat from Bucky’s brow and hoisted his legs further up around his waist.

“Ready?” Steve asked, repositioning his knees slightly.

Bucky nodded again. Steve felt fingers dig into his back as Bucky readied himself.

“Fuck me,” Bucky whispered.

His voice barely made any sound but the words lit Steve up from the inside. He pulled back, and with one deep thrust, he buried himself in Bucky’s body.

One long shaky “ _ahh”_ fell from Bucky’s lips as Steve rolled his hips, pulling back until the tip of his cock was just about to slip out before shoving back in.

Steve was in heaven. He kissed Bucky’s jaw, his neck, his slack lips, as he fucked him deep. Having come twice already, Steve felt like he could do this forever. His own pleasure was a distant afterthought as Bucky’s sharp nails scratched the back of his shoulders. Steve rolled his hips in a smooth motion. Every time his hips hit Bucky’s ass, he slid up the bed a half inch so Steve kept his hands tangled in Bucky’s hair, holding him in place as he thrust into him.

“Faster,” Bucky whispered, his metal hand digging into the back of Steve’s neck.

Steve silently obeyed, unwilling and unable to refuse Bucky anything.

A small whimper fell from Bucky’s lips as Steve sped up. He kept his grip firm and his eyes locked on Bucky’s as their breaths mingled and Bucky’s eyes started to lose focus again.

He was trying to keep them open, Steve could tell, but every few thrusts they fluttered, half closing before Bucky bit his lip or dug his fingers in and forced them open again. Steve grinned, sliding one hand down to feel Bucky’s chest and sides, just touching while Bucky clung to him.

Steve took Bucky’s hard cock in hand and Bucky’s whole body clenched.

“Ah— Stevie,” Bucky hissed, squirming as Steve jacked him slowly.

“Sensitive?” Steve asked gently, rubbing his thumb under the head.

Bucky nodded and his eyes squeezed shut as Steve jacked him again.

“Just one more,” Steve whispered, “You’re gonna feel so good, I promise.”

He ran his fingers up and down Bucky’s shaft at half the pace of his thrusting hips.

“Already do,” Bucky managed to gasp out, “S-so good.”

Steve mouthed at his jaw and let the rhythmic sound of Bucky’s moans wash over him. He felt steady and completely in control of himself, right up until something hot and wet dripped down his balls.

His pace stuttered and his hand accidentally tightened on Bucky’s cock as hot come slid out of his loose hole and down his thigh.

 _“Fuck—“_ Steve shuddered, his fists clenching as he dropped his head down onto Bucky’s shoulder.

Hot pleasure thrummed beneath his skin. A split second was all it took for Steve to go from comfortable and sated to feeling like he could come at any moment.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Steve gasped, “Bucky— I — fuck— can you— _nngh!_ “

Steve bit into Bucky’s throat as his hips jerked involuntarily.

“Shit, Stevie,” Bucky gasped and pawed at his back, “What do you need?”

“Put your fingers in me,” he blurted, “please— just— _ah!”_

Two thick metal fingers shoved easily into Steve’s hole.

“Oh my god,” Steve groaned.

The metal was cool and rigid, simultaneously soothing and stimulating as he felt another wave of Bucky’s come slide down his leg.

“M’ gonna come,” Steve hissed.

He held himself up on one elbow and began stripping Bucky’s cock as fast as he could.

_“Ah!”_

Bucky’s back arched and his eyes went wide. His heels slid across Steve’s lower back and his nails carved streaks of pain down Steve’s shoulders.

Steve’s hips jerked frantically and he squeezed Bucky’s dick and his ass clenched around Bucky’s fingers. 

“Ah, ah, _ah!”_

Bucky went silent and rigid. His head tipped back and streaks of white splashed against his glistening chest.

Steve barely lasted a second longer. 

He thrust erratically as Bucky’s limp fingers brushed his prostate and suddenly his chest seized.

Pleasure on the verge of pain overwhelmed him. 

His thighs trembled as the heat of Bucky’s body quickly became too much but he held himself inside as the first spurt of come shot deep into Bucky’s ass. 

The second brought Steve down. His pecs slid across Bucky’s damp chest as the last of Bucky’s come splashed across Steve’s abs.

Steve’s cock pulsed one last time and he felt it fill the tight space around his dick before dripping out across his balls and down Bucky’s ass.

Bucky’s ass clenched and Steve gasped, his oversensitive cock still trapped inside his hole. 

Carefully, barely moving, Steve pulled his hips back until his spent cock slipped free. Bucky let out a little, _“Nngh”_ as Steve fell still against him, his dick now dripping onto the ruined sheets.

The heaving of his chest was mirrored by Bucky’s beneath him.

Metal fingers slipped out of him and a tiny groan escaped Steve’s lips as another sticky wave of come and lube slid out.

“Fuck,” he sighed, his cheek against Bucky’s metal shoulder.

His toes tingled. His ass throbbed. His mind was blissfully empty.

The only sound in the apartment was their panting breaths. 

The sun had long since disappeared below the horizon and the only light that filled the room came from the distant skyline across the river.

After a few long minutes of stillness, Steve felt a hand stroke his hair.

“You awake, Stevie?” Bucky whispered.

Steve slowly lifted his head.

“Hey, Buck,” he replied sleepily, a soft smile on his face.

“Heya, Stevie,” Bucky pressed his lips against Steve’s sweaty forehead, “I feel like my dick is gonna fall off.”

Steve chuckled and let Bucky keep petting him.

“Shame,” he breathed, “I was looking forward to doing that again sometime.”

“Steve, there is so much come on me right now. If you threw me on the ground, I would _splat.”_

Steve's body shook as he laughed against Bucky’s tacky, sweaty, come streaked chest.

“Don’t tempt me,” Steve snorted, “I bet I could throw you pretty far.”

“Not the take away from that statement,” Bucky replied dryly, giving Steve’s hair a little tug.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure I got what I was supposed to get.”

“Really? Cause’ what you were supposed to get is that I want you to carry me to the shower.”

Steve hummed thoughtfully.

“Is it big enough for both of us?” Steve asked, a smile spreading across his face.

Bucky sighed deeply, his head shaking even as he smiled back.

“Yes, Steve. It’s big enough for both of us.”

“No need to sound so put out,” Steve laughed, pushing himself up onto his knees even as they trembled beneath him, “You’re not the only one who’s dripping right now.”

Even as Steve sat up he could feel his thighs slide together with all the liquid caught between them.

“I just wanna shower with you,” Steve continued, tugging Bucky up next to him, “Maybe make out a little bit.”

As Bucky sat up he leaned forward and pulled Steve in with a hand against his jaw.

“Mm, I could be into that,” he murmured before kissing Steve gently, like they had all the time in the world and, for once, Steve thought that maybe they actually did.

“Buck,” he whispered, trailing his fingertips across Bucky’s knee as they kissed.

“Hm?”

“I—“ He swallowed and closed his eyes.

Bucky pulled back and ran his thumb across Steve’s cheekbone.

“What is it, Stevie?” He breathed, pressing another little kiss onto Steve’s lips.

“I’m—” he whispered so quietly he could barely hear it himself, “I’m so glad we found each other again.”

He felt Bucky’s cheeks pull into a smile against his.

“Well, you know what the fates say about me.” Bucky reached out and with a single finger, traced the outline of a star across Steve’s chest, “I’ve got starlight in my heart.”

Bucky was blushing, Steve realized as his finger trailed across Steve’s chest. Steve caught his hand before it pulled away and pressed it flat against his skin so Bucky could feel his heart beating.

“Good,” he whispered in reply, “because I’ve got nothin’ but you in mine.”

Not for the first time, the words, “I love you,” fluttered through Steve’s mind and Bucky’s face glowed like Steve had said them anyway.

A breathless laugh fell from Bucky’s lips.

“I want to spend every minute with you, Steve Rogers.”

“I’ll be right here as long as you want me.” Steve whispered with a smile.

“You might be here for a while then,” Bucky replied, peering up at Steve through the long strands of his dark hair, “You sure you’re up for that?”

Steve took Bucky’s face in both hands. He brushed his long hair back and looked at him with nothing but pure, unyielding adoration as he made a vow he never intended to break.

“I'll be with you until the end of the line.”


End file.
